Podcasts about Pale

Quaranteam - Dave In Dallas: Part 11 Cleanup: The Air Force arrives with a mop. Based on a post by RonanJWilkerson, in 12 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels. Dave's second quandary was his position, nearly on the middle of the pad, left him seriously exposed. Applying the aggressiveness taught by Carter, he knew Liv had him protected to the right, so he closed with the occupied building, moving to the far corner. A quick look showed him there were again two doors, like the other building. And two men emerging from the far door. Turning their backs to him as they followed a third man who was just rounding the opposite corner. That put him out of Dave's sight, but into Liv's. As the men receded, Dave fired into their backs. Neither was at a sprint, so they fell forward without the dramatic tumbling of the earlier target. A simultaneous rifle crack announced the death of the lead in that trio. He paused. Dave couldn't hear any sounds coming from the building. He remained wary, uneasy. How many more will it take? He waited. An eternity later, the door on one of the smaller buildings slowly opened. Two hands held high and outward came into view, followed by the woman they were attached to. She moved slowly. She was too far away for Dave to read her facial expression but she was giving all the big outward signs of surrender. Two more women exited another of the smaller buildings. One was an average build, the other rotund. The latter's feet seemed reluctant to move. Great. Don't know if there's anyone left in the big building, and now I have unknowns coming in from the houses. Other women began issuing from what must be the dwellings. Eight in all. As they neared, most had curious, guarded expressions on their faces. The big one had a look like she rarely smiled, ever. "Alright, that's close enough! Just stop where you are. Pick a leader and send her forward." There was a brief discussion which resulted in a medium height brunette walking towards him. The third woman out glared daggers into the back of the brunette's skull. The angry one argued hard with all of them, but none seemed interested in anything she had to say. Dave waited until the brunette reached easy speaking distance. "Stop right there. What's your name?" "Sandy." "How many of you are there?" "I don't rightly know." She looked thoughtful. "All the men were in the community building. Us women and our kids were in our homes. Jeb, the man that bound me to him, came in awhile ago with a new woman. She was out, like from the shot he gave me before." That confirms they're using the QT serum . "If he bound you to him with that shot, why are you awake?" "Oh, that was a few weeks back for me. I knew him a little bit before lockdowns started. Then he just shows up and says he has this safe place to stay and we can both be safe from the virus runnin' round, but I have to take this shot and sleep with him. He's been an okay guy, and I ain't had no boyfriend in several months anyway. 'Sides, he didn't tell me that I couldn't be with anybody else after that. Which sucks, but mostly he's been okay. Only been an asshole a few times, but that's pretty fair for most guys I've met. No offense." Dave smirked. "Sandy, how many men are there in your community?" She stopped, looking off to the side, thinking. "Well, there was the ten that left saying' they's gonna raid a rich man's house for somethin', never told us what. Now we know why. They were out collectin' poon like we's just a bunch a deer and no tag limit." Sandy paused. "Is that why you're here? You come to scoop us up and make us your whores?" "No, ma'am." We killed more than ten, so that can't be all . "If you ladies were bound to these men, we'll need to take you to the people that hand out the vaccine to see what they can do for you. But ma'am, please, how many men total are there?" The far door of the community building opened slowly, and a woman stepped out. It was the one Dave had seen inject one of the women right before she got raped. "Get over with the others. Is anyone else inside?" The woman shook her head no and moved swiftly to join the pack. "Oh, right. Well, after the ten left, all six of the others took off saying' they could do just as good somewhere else. But only three of them came back, including Jeb. As soon as they's back they took the nurse, that's the woman that just came out, well they took her and the two women bound to two of the guys that didn't come back and a bit later those women are out cold again. I thought the whole shot thing was permanent, but maybe not if the guy's dead? I hope so, 'cuz we're about to be in a bad way aren't we?" Thirteen. Thirteen men here. Dave counted off in his head. He thought they'd taken out thirteen, but he wasn't going to make assumptions. Especially when one part of his brain was parodying an old farcical movie about how many bullets had been fired from a gun. An 80's flick set in the 50's. "Alright Sandy, is there anyone else left in the houses?" "Just the kids, and some unconscious women. The men said they'd gotten them; reassigned?" She looked frustrated. "Guess I still wasn't good enough to keep that asshole by m'self." Dave deliberately gave Sandy an appraising look. "I think that has more to do with his greed than your looks or personality." "Well ain't you sweet?" Sandy licked her lips and looked Dave up and down. "Easy, I meant every word I said, but I already have several partners. Those six that left attacked my house." Sandy's face dropped. "I don't know if I should hate your guts for killing Jeb, or thank you, for the same thing." After a pause she spoke again. "You should be careful of Debbie. Her husband brought her here for some kinda rebel nation shit. She's already pissed he came back with some hot blonde from a rich man's house. But not so mad at him she's just gonna let you killin' him slide." "Is she the rather large woman that looks like she sucked on an entire lemon tree?" "That's the one." "How 'bout we settle on neutrality for now? Look, let's get all of you back in your homes and warm. I'll need to call the authorities to make sure you all get taken care of before that serum starts doing ugly things." Sandy walked back to the assembled throng. Another debate broke out. Debbie leading a third of the group in angry objections. Then she turned to face Dave. "Where's our men? What gives you the right to come bargin' in here?" She headed for the far end of the building. Several others followed, more than just the ones that had agreed with her. Dave knew things would turn ugly as soon as these women saw the dead bodies. His fastest route into the open yard space was behind him. He sprinted the way he'd come, entering the yard through the gap just as the women began kneeling near selected bodies. By the women's placement, some of the men must have sprinted from the building's edge. Instead of a clump near the corner, there was a line of a few reaching towards the tree line. Dave felt a cold turn inside. Rationally, he could see the line ended well before the trees, suggesting Liv had taken all of them down before they got close. But could one have gotten through? That thought was interrupted by Debbie leaving the line of dead, beginning to search the yard and moving as quickly as her thick legs would carry her. Dave moved to get clear of the gap and the bodies just beyond it. Several of the other women left the line of dead as well. They slowly swarmed about the open space while Debbie made a beeline for the gap. Then she noticed a body in the grass. Fury returned to her face after a brief look of relief. Then she paused. Her chest was already heaving from exertion. When she faced Dave, the anguish was obvious. "You fucking coward! You shot 'em in the back! You shot my husband!" She began a slow charge at him. Dave sorted through his options. The only sure way he had of stopping this woman was his weapon, but he had no desire to shoot an unarmed woman grieving her husband. He could outrun her easily, but he needed to stay in the area. For a moment, Dave's brain played an image of him making short sprints and the woman chasing after him like some schoolyard game. Not helping dammit . Dave took a few steps backwards, bringing him near the back wall of the community building. He noticed the dryer vent again, which meant the pile of pipes wasn't far. He'd have to be careful if he backpedaled any more. Falling on his ass would not engender obedience or respect. Debbie's tirade ended in a screech as she reached into her pocket. Her hand came back out with a small revolver. Shit. Shit. Shit. Dave brought his weapon up faster than her and pulled his trigger. Click . No round fired. The weapon jammed. Shit . Dave dove sideways and backwards just as Debbie fired. He felt a smack on his shoulder as he fell. His hand landed on the pipe pile. He grabbed and rolled away from the wall as another shot spanged off the brick. As he rolled, he swung one arm, releasing one of the two rods he'd snagged. He threw one leg out and came up from his roll, facing Debbie as she recovered from the rod that hit her. Her motion and his brought them in close proximity. On instinct, Dave snapped out with the remaining rod, striking Debbie's wrist. She shrieked in pain as she dropped the pistol. Dave followed up with two strikes to her knee before stepping back into a ready stance. Debbie cried out, but still managed one step forward before the side of her head exploded. Dave turned from Debbie's corpse to scan the area. All of the other women were on the ground. Clearly, they'd done the math in their head and figured out he had a partner in the trees. "Don't make us shoot anyone else. We only came here because we were attacked. The people that attacked us and another house are now all dead. We've done what we came for. We are not leaving you hanging. We know you've been given Quaranteam doses so your lives are bound to these men. There is a way to free you from that bond." Dave decided a bit of vague spitballing could be useful here and played it fast and loose based on what he'd learned in the past 24 hours. "Well, not exactly free you, but transfer that bond to someone else. This time, you will have a choice in that bonding. But, I will not countenance any threat to myself or my partner. And as you can see, she is very protective of me as well. You can also see she is a damn good shot. I want all of you to gather over here, in the lee of this building, while I get someone here to help." The women got up, moving slowly so as not to provoke Dave or his hidden partner. Once they were all clumped together, he pulled out his cell phone. Time to call Detective Verratti. Chapter 13; Cleanup. October 29, 2020 8:20am "Wait, wait, wait. What do you mean you and Olivia are at the compound? Didn't you say you and your special forces friend; Carter? That the two of you were heading to the compound?" On another call, Dave would have switched ears by now. The burning in his left shoulder threatened to make that shift a very painful decision. "No, detective, I simply said we." "Dammit, professor, why the hell wouldn't you take the trained spec-ops guy on something; oh, fuck." "Exactly. Carter and his wife have been dead for two months now. Carter was the security expert in our prepper community. He ran us through many drills on how to protect ourselves and those around us. Olivia is an excellent long-range shot. She proved it again today. Took out half the compound with her sniping. Shot one that was coming at me with a.38, when my gun jammed." "Okay, okay. Damn. Look, I contacted the Air Force when you sent me the text saying you were there. As soon as the liaison red off the coordinates, whoever was on the other end of the phone got pissed. If I overheard correctly, they gathered a small force and headed that way by chopper. I think they lifted off about twenty minutes ago. Expect them in less than an hour. If they arrive in the same mood their boss was in, keep your head down. I know I'm already in deep shit. After getting shouted at over the phone, the Air Force liaison went into my boss' office and shouted for ten minutes straight. Professor; I'm sorry I got you into this." Dave signed off that call, then texted Liv. -Sling your rifle, come into the glade with pistol drawn. He stuffed his phone back in his pocket and waited. Half his energy was devoted to ignoring the pain in his arm. The adrenaline and other wonderful bio-chemicals the body produces during high stress situations all drained out in the past ten minutes so nothing got in the way of his arm screaming at his head for doing damn fool things. On the plus side, the bleeding had stopped. Mostly. As long as he didn't move it. The blood that had come out was enough to stain most of his sleeve, but not significantly impair his thinking from blood loss. Liv emerged from the tree line with all the charisma of a warrior queen. As Dave requested, her rifle was slung cross body, and her 10mm pistol was in her hands, held low, as her eyes scanned her surroundings. She took a bit of extra 'dwell time' when her eyes passed over the assembled women. Liv strode purposefully across the ground, halting at a position within easy talking range, yet too far to make them both a single target. Dave looked her over, examining her face and posture. Concern for the psychological impact of this on Olivia was uppermost in his mind. Great time to be worried about that, huh? After all the fighting is done. Genius . He snapped himself back to reality. There would be time later for self-recrimination. Liv's visual scanning kept lingering on Dave's left shoulder. "We need to treat that. It'll be tricky to do while maintaining security." "There's an Air Force team on their way. Detective Verratti said they may be unhappy, but I'm sure they'll have a medic. Or at least a first aid bag." "How long?" "Less than an hour. Sounds like forty minutes, most likely." "That arm shouldn't wait that long. You need stitches." "Got any in your back pocket, Liv?" Dave hadn't meant to get testy, but the pain was eroding his 'nice function' and the conversation felt like it was spiraling already. The flat look from Olivia carried a tinge of hurt, and forgiveness, and her own self-restraint. "Sorry, Olivia." She nodded in response, her eyes once again on their charges. One of them stood and moved slowly towards Dave. Livy squared her shoulders to the woman, but made no other change in her focus. When the woman was halfway to him, Dave recognized her as the lady that came out of the building as he spoke with Sandy. The one Sandy identified as a nurse. "Sir, would you let me look at your wound? I'm a nurse." Liv looked at him cautiously, then gave him one slow blink. Dave restrained himself from chuckling. From her, the slow blink meant anything from 'sure' to 'don't make me say I told you so'. Dave nodded at the woman. She approached slowly, then cautiously brought one hand up to examine his wound. She pulled back on the shirt to ascertain the extent of the injury. "I can treat it temporarily for now. You need stitches; which we don't have. And a painkiller. All they have here for that is alcohol, marijuana and meth. None of which I would recommend." Dave chuckled. With her finger so close, his shaking caused her to jab the side of the open gash. Dave flinched and gritted his teeth. "Oh, I'm so sorry." The nurse jumped back, pulling her hand back to her chest. Her other hand clasped the offending one closely, like she was putting it in time out. "It's okay, ma'am. I'm the one that moved suddenly." "Parker. My name is Parker." "Dave." "Well, Dave, you've got a decent flesh wound that will make a good reminder scar once it heals. You need to get stitches as soon as possible. Like today. Wait too long and it won't do any good. In the meantime, I can bandage it up. I'll need to go inside to get some clean cloth, though." Her eyes held the obvious question of whether he would let her. "How did you wind up here?" "I was on a transport from the vaccine center on my way to my Oracle designated partner when the bus got hijacked. Fifteen of us were diverted from someone we'd chosen to these guys that made their choices just by looking at us. They went in order, so whoever had priority got first pick, and so on." That matched what Verratti told Dave. More importantly, she didn't hesitate and there was no sign of falsehood in her eyes or face. Carter taught him to be careful who you trust, but you have to trust someone. There was a haunted look in her eyes, but no deception. "Liv, can you escort this nurse inside so she can get something to bandage me with?" The young brunette that had known him longer than anyone left alive gave him a funny look. "Or maybe you escort her, so you can sit down and put your arm on a table while she does her work. Should be easier for both of you that way." The nurse's face immediately took on a restrained, but amused look. "Don't say it, let's go," said Dave with a sigh. He followed her back around to the front of the building. She entered through the first door. It opened into the kitchen area. In short order, she scooped up the first aid kit and led Dave into the dining space. The room still smelled of the recent nonconsensual ruttings. Parker visibly flinched when the smell hit her. She came to a dead stop when she saw the body lying against the wall. The look on her face suggested her desire to not be here, and not be reminded of the events of this morning and her part in them, was warring with her professional instincts. Dave watched as she composed herself and ushered him to take a seat with just a hand gesture. Dave sat so Parker's back would be towards the body. As she tended his wound, he searched for visual clues. The man was older, at least fifty, likely over sixty, judging by the condition of his skin. Prominent wrinkles and liver spots, and a leathery look of someone that spent much of his life with a heavy tan. A distinctly aquiline nose and patrician features shouted 'man of money' even more so than his silk pajamas. Necessarily, Parker - more specifically her face - lay in Dave's line of sight as he looked about. Underneath the mien of professional concentration lay clear signs that removing the visual cue of the dead body was barely tamping down her anxiety. When she reached into the kit to find the scissors; so she could trim the excess off the bandage; her fingers first brought out the razor. The way she stared at it was unsettling. She paused to wipe away newly forming tears before finishing with Dave's gauze. As she neatly placed each piece of unused equipment in the kit, he gently took her chin in his right hand, turning her head to look directly at him. "Parker, you've had to make some tough choices here. You did the best you could with what you had. You're an ER nurse, right?" He recalled that tidbit from the detective's discussion. Parker nodded in affirmation. "Okay, so your training and experience is to do everything you can to get your patient that next heartbeat, to take the next breath, and another, and another. Just keep them going, and let someone else do the fancy work once you're sure the patient is alive right?" Her face contorted further as she nodded. "But I didn't. I didn't keep her alive. They took her outside ;” Parker's voice trailed off as she wept, her chest heaving. "An older blonde woman, probably in her mid-forties right?" She nodded, still weeping, not looking at him. "Her name is Natasha, and she's alive." Parker's head snapped up. Her eyes were wide in astonishment and hope. "But; how?" "I killed those men with a silenced pistol. She's hiding in my truck. Actually, I need to check on her. My partner had some spare clothes in there. Hopefully she found them." "Can I see her? Please? I just ;” The wild, desperate look in her eyes was impossible to deny. Dave gave his arm a few careful motions, testing out the pain level for various directions and ranges. It gave him an excuse to delay answering and drew her attention back to occupational concerns. "Yeah, we can do that. First, I need to touch base with my partner though." Gesturing he said, "Let's go." Parker quickly rose, snatching up the first aid kit. She deposited it back in its secure place in the kitchen before exiting, with Dave right behind her. She glanced over her shoulder several times to check that Dave was still with her as she walked around the building and straight towards Olivia. Over the last few steps, she veered off, giving Dave and Liv enough space to talk privately while she remained close by. Dave filled Livy in on what was happening. "Maybe you should escort her though, in case Natasha has not found your clothes. Besides, it would give you a chance to move about instead of standing here, getting cold." "Are you sure she saw me well enough to be comfortable when I approach? You, she got a good look at. And vice versa." Liv added a wink. Dave looked at her, his face flat and unimpressed. "Oh come on, David, you have nine women at home, came out here to dispense some justice on the assholes that attacked us, and picked up a groupie." "For crying out loud, Liv. She's not; Okay, fine, I'll escort the nurse. That woman's been through enough trauma without being exposed to your humor." Liv gave him an enigmatic smile as he walked away with Parker. Dave pointed to the gap in the trees he'd used for entry and exit previously. Once inside, the nurse stopped him. "David, I; I'm not sure if anything can be done for her." "What do you mean? "I mean, I; um, I'm not sure how much I can say. She needs something that I'm not sure is possible anymore." "You mean you couldn't extract any more semen from the dead guy's balls?" "How the hell did you know that?! That's confidential information! No one's supposed to know!" "Parker, these guys attacked my house. We killed three of them. The bodies were on my back deck and driveway with their balls cut off. Later, we get here and I see you jab the old guy in the balls with a syringe and the shot changes color. You're reassigning these women from the dead guy to the attackers using the dead man's cum, right?" She hung her head. "It was the only way to keep them alive." "And as long as they're alive, there's hope. There's a chance to fight another day, right?" She raised her head again, eyes watery, looking as if she really wanted to believe in the thin reed he offered her. "But, what about her? She's bound to that guy, and I couldn't get any more cum out. Depending on when she last slept with him, she's got a week or two before this stuff eats her up from the inside. It'll be like what they wanted to do to her, but in slow motion." Her voice cracked as she spoke. "Parker, I want you to consider something, and this is not a knock on you, but the conditions. You are an ER nurse, working under field conditions. If we take his body back to a hospital, or the vaccine center, do you think maybe a lab tech with precision equipment and ideal conditions could manage to eke out enough semen to let her switch partners?" She smiled again, taking a shaky breath. The suggestion relaxed her enough to acquiesce when he motioned her down the trail. "I don't know. I don't know, but it's worth a try. We have to move fast though. There's a time limit on how long we have to get it done." "Then we'll make sure when the Air Force gets here with their chopper, Natasha and the dead body are on the first bird out." Parker said no more as they walked. Dave only spoke to guide her on the path. When they got into visual range of the truck, Parker's steps took on an extra urgency, like she wanted to run, but held herself back. Dave signaled for her to fall in trail behind him and wait when they neared the truck. "Natasha? Natasha, it's David. I'm here with the nurse. The compound is secure now. The Air Force is on its way. We came to check on you. Did you find the clothes in the truck?" A blonde head slowly peeked over the dashboard, only one eye visible. That one eye held enough wariness for a dozen faces. The head scanned about carefully, never spending much time away from Dave and Parker. "All of the attackers are dead, Natasha. They can't hurt you." Her head cleared the dashboard and moved towards the passenger door, the same side Dave and Parker stood several feet away from. The door opened at a glacial pace. Then two legs clad in grey sweatpants stepped down. Natasha stepped clear of the door, wearing a thin white shirt, grey sweatpants that threatened to fall off, and a look of nervous hope and apprehension. Dave tried to ignore what the cold was doing to her nipples. Rigidly holding his eye contact on her face, he said, "Parker here is an ER nurse. How about letting her examine you? And then join the rest of the women. The ladies abducted with you are all; asleep, but there are women that were captured previously, like Parker here." Natasha glanced quickly at Parker. "They captured you too?" "Nearly two months ago. Our transport was hijacked after we'd already had our injections. We were on our way to our Oracle match partners when the attack happened." Natasha's wariness fell in the face of shared trauma; and the knowledge of traumas she'd been spared. She closed the distance and hugged Parker. The nurse initially stood shocked, unresponsive, her arms limp at her sides. Slowly, her hands rose, clasping onto Natasha's shoulder blades before she began shaking with sobs of relief. Reluctantly, Dave stepped in. When he spoke, he used the softest tone he was capable of. "Ladies, we need to get back. I'd rather not walk back into the clearing after the Air Force folks arrive, armed. That tends to make them nervous." He pitched his words softly, but firmly. Parker nodded in acknowledgement. The two shared a look that communicated; something. Then Dave noticed the older blonde still had nothing on her feet. "No socks in the bag?" he asked. Natasha shook her head no. Dave sighed, walked in front of her, turned his back to her and crouched. "Come on." He lowered his weapon to dangle from its sling. "What?" "Get on my back, I'll carry you." "Uh, are you sure about this? With your arm like it is?" Parker queried. "My back can carry the burden without straining my arm muscles." After a brief pause, he heard her moving hesitantly before her weight rested on his back. Her arms came around his neck. Then he hooked his hands under her knees and stood carefully. With Parker following behind, Dave navigated the path quickly. He maintained a slightly stooped posture that Carter had taught as the best way to carry a ruck. It worked quite well for carrying a person, too. The trio made good time through the woods and emerged from the tree line very deliberately, so as not to startle Liv, who was still on guard. The smile on the brunette's face when Dave emerged with Natasha on his back was unmistakable. Dave studiously ignored it. Once they were over soft grass, he lowered Natasha to the ground. He was uncomfortable sending these two to huddle with the rest of the women, but he wasn't sure what else to do. Until the moment he was ready to open his mouth. "Liv, take Parker and inspect the houses. Check on the women that got imprinted. Keep an eye out for kids or other adults. If it's just kids, reassure them the best you can. Keep them where they are if possible." Parker spoke up. "What if we bring; Natasha?; with us. I think my spare shoes would fit her. I can get her a jacket too." Dave looked at Liv, questioningly. She gave a short nod in response. Dave shrugged his agreement. After a long backwards look at Dave, Natasha followed the other two, leaving Dave on guard over the women huddled against the building. Most of them wore some manner of jacket and long pants. A few were in pajama pants and thick housecoats. All remained quiet, barely even talking amongst themselves. One brunette, a bit older, kept glancing at Dave. After several minutes, she rose and slowly approached him. As she got closer, Dave had a strange sense of recognition. Like he should know who she was, but couldn't place her. "Hi, um, I just wanted to say thank you. I've been stuck here for over a month. Several of us have, including the nurse that was with you earlier." Her dark eyes gleamed as she continued. "Listen, I know we'll need new partners soon. I think you should know that a few of the girls are already discussing the possibility of getting paired with you." Dave stiffened. His spine, not his cock. "Well, that's very flattering, but I didn't come here for that. Hell, I already have nine partners. My house is getting kinda full. I know the CDC guy that showed up a month and a half ago said I could wind up with twelve or more, but, uh, I could be just fine with stopping where I am. So, thank you, but no thank you. I mean, unless you specially match to me and don't have anyone else nearly as good a match." Her eyes widened. "Oh, no. No, I wasn't speaking personally. I mean, I appreciate what you've done, but not that far. The others just asked me to come over, sort of as a spokesperson. You know, use my fame in the hope that would help get your approval." It was the mild gravelly tone in her voice that finally did it. "Oh. Oh, shit. Aurora Hensley?" Dave shook his head. "Sorry, I knew I recognized you, but my brain just didn't place you until after you spoke for a bit. How the hell did a star like you wind up here?" Miss Henley tried to grin to cover up her grimace, but it didn't work. "Please, call me Rory. Lockdown stopped production on my show. You may have noticed we don't have a new season out." Dave nodded. "Yes, a few of my partners grumbled about it." "Ah, but not you, huh?" she said with a real grin this time. "Oh, I've watched some re-runs with them a few times. It's just that cop shows are only a fifty-fifty interest for me. Mostly, the ones I like get into the crime lab stuff, and yours didn't have that. No offense." Dave shrugged with the last statement. She examined him coyly. "Ah, so the fact that the two leads were women has nothing to do with it?" The words were accusatory, but something about her tone suggested she was playing with him. "Naw, not particularly. The story is well executed I think. It's just a type that only sometimes grabs my interest. I did appreciate that the show featured two female leads, without pounding the fact in the viewer's face. It stood on the writing and acting, and didn't beat some political drum." "Well, thank you. I think." She smirked at him. "Sorry for dodging, it's just; it hurts you know?" A shadow passed over her features, causing Dave to place a hand on her shoulder. He also forced himself to scan the group again, making sure no one was using his distraction to do something. He kicked himself for his obliviousness and made sure he kept his focus where it needed to be, without sacrificing the conversation. "Look, I know this is all still fresh, so if you don't want to talk about what these guys did to you here, you don't have to. I'm sure they'll have profess--" "Oh no, not that. I mean, I might, but honestly, you wiping them out is already a big help. That's why I came up to thank you." Then Rory grinned slyly again. "It's also why some of them want to thank you." "Well, with the vaccine, that's a rather permanent thing. They need to take some time to think it over first, and use the matching system, um, Oracle." "True, very true. You know, it's tempting to come at you like a rescued princess, just like the others. But in truth, I have a friend I was on my way to meet when our transport was hijacked. He's been a good friend for years, but we never dated or anything. He showed up as a reasonable match, so I was supposed to be with him. I'm going to call him as soon as I can to see if he's still interested." "More than likely, he'll be thrilled to hear you're alright." "Yes, probably. He's a good man. The girls like him." As soon as the words came out of her mouth, Rory grimaced like she'd been stabbed and the wielder was twisting the knife in her guts. Dave got a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I, uh, I have to go." She turned away briefly, then turned back. "No, wait." She took a few deep breaths before continuing. "The reason I came over in the first place." She paused for a hiccupping sob. "Um, look, I can never express how much I appreciate what you've done for me here. If you need anything. Anything at all. I know people. People in entertainment, and in politics. Just call me. I'd be glad to help." With tears in her eyes, she turned back towards the wall and walked swiftly, managing not to run. Rory's rushed return and obvious emotional turmoil was greeted by consternation among the small crowd of women. Two took the time to stare at him, worry clear on their faces. Quiet conversations started up and rapidly turned internal. The women clustered around Rory, wrapping her in hugs. When they finally parted, they began speaking again, in low tones, and long periods in which all were silent. It was quite some time before Liv, Parker, and Natasha came around the right side of the building. All appeared in good spirits. Natasha now sported a denim jacket over her white T-shirt and a pair of tennis shoes on her feet. As they approached, Dave noted that Natasha was no longer grabbing at the waist band of the sweatpants to keep them up, so some solution had been found. The jacket was of sufficient length to conceal whatever that had been. Likewise, it was likely she had socks to go with the shoes, but there was no visible gap between pants and shoes to confirm that deduction. The relaxed look on her face would have to do. Parker spoke first when they came within a reasonable speaking distance. "Sixteen women are in imprinting sleep in the houses. I checked their vitals, and nothing appears amiss. Except that they're all blondes." "I told the others while we were out, Drew, the man we were paired to, only had blondes in his; team." Natasha spoke slowly, not quite reluctantly. "It was a fetish of his. Though there was variety, of a sort. Cheerleader, businesswoman, that sort of thing. I was the 'older woman' blonde. One is a teenager, just barely survived to get injected. I; I knew him before this, or at least, I thought I knew him. We went to many of the same charity dinners and such. He was so cordial in public." Parker hugged Natasha around the shoulders, a supportive measure to remind her that problem was in her past. Then Olivia spoke. "A few houses had kids. They are awake and hungry. A little worried, but not frantic. I was thinking we could get a meal going in the main cafeteria instead of separate little meals in each house." "Sure," Dave replied. "That's a good plan. First, we'll need to get the body out of there." "Body?" Liv asked. "Drew, the man all those women are partnered to. These guys were re-imprinting the women to themselves in the cafeteria space." Dave kept his voice carefully neutral. "How the hell does that work?" "We're not supposed to know, but what I saw here and at our house, I made some good guesses that Parker confirmed. You and I are probably going to spend a lot of time explaining ourselves, so the less I share the better." Liv's nodding reply carried an undertone of expectation that, once all this blew over, Dave had better spill what he knows. A small traitorous part of Dave's heart took that as a possible indication that Liv wanted to know a way out of the bonding effects of the serum. Dave's brain was pretty convinced that was B S, though he would certainly ask if she wanted out later. The idea of keeping any woman bound to him against her will made him physically nauseous. Doing that to his Livy Bean was unacceptable in the extreme. "Tell you what," Dave continued, "You stay here for a few minutes. I'll haul the body out of the cafeteria and around to this side of the building. Then, Liv, supervise getting breakfast going in the cafeteria; and I mean supervise, you maintain control and security, someone else cooks. Parker, you can escort the kids from the houses to the cafeteria." Still facing the nurse, he asked, "Who would you recommend do the cooking?" "Sandy and Rory are pretty good. Together they should be able to handle breakfast for all the kids." "OK, sounds good. Wait 'til I get the body moved around to this area before you get moving." All three women nodded. Dave immediately stalked off, eager to get things in motion before the military arrived and brought everything to a halt while they took their time coming to the same conclusions Dave had already arrived at. The kids needed to be fed. He went around the right side of the building for once, since it provided the shortest route to his destination. As soon as he stepped inside, he was greeted by the older man's corpse lying flat on the floor, up against the wall, his silk pajama pants still pulled down to his knees. That was the first thing to fix. Doing his best to avoid touching the corpse (or another man's naked body), Dave took hold of the waistband near each knee and pulled them up and over the man's hips. That done, he stopped to consider the best way to get the body moved. Rigor. Rigor mortis had set in. None of the man' joints would move. And he'd been left on the floor, jammed into the corner between wall and floor for hours. There were two options Dave could see: grab and lift by the man's shoulders and drag him with his heels on the ground. A little awkward, but doable. The downside there was the chance his pajama pants cuffs could snag on something and come all the way off. Hell, even part way was undesirable. The second option was to get this guy onto Dave's shoulder like a two by four. A one hundred and fifty pound two by four. Sure, no problem. Mentally retracting all the curses he'd flung at Carter during upper body workouts, Dave went to work. First, he knelt beside the corpse. Then he lifted the torso so it lay on his shoulder. The next part was tricky. Silk didn't give a lot of traction to grab with. Neither did flesh. It took three tries that quickly returned to the floor-kneeling position when the body began to slip before Dave managed to successfully gain his feet on the fourth attempt, the body securely balanced on his left shoulder. And every single time he used his left arm for anything, a serenade of pain accompanied the act. He'd had experience getting through doorways with lumber or pipes on his shoulder, so while it was cumbersome, Dave managed the maneuver just fine. Though he had to use his left arm to operate the door. He couldn't avoid whimpering as he forced the injured limb to comply. Once outside, it was quite easy to make the brief trek around the building and dump the body in the grass a reasonable distance from the line of dead pointing towards the trees. He also picked up the staccato sounds of a chopper, low, and building quickly. Parker was halfway to the houses and Liv had disappeared into the cafeteria building with Rory and Sandy when their heads turned, picking up the sound. Figuring it was the safest course of action, Dave walked to the middle of the open space he'd fought in, away from others, his hands away from his body and his weapons slung on his back or holstered. He knew Olivia had the presence of mind to do the same. One Blackhawk landed to Dave's left, on the other side of the unused building. A second landed beyond the community building, presumably beyond the first house and to the left of the others. The third Blackhawk landed to Dave's right, well clear of the community building. The rotor blast was strong, but not overwhelming. The moisture in the air guaranteed no dust blown around, and the cold snap was too recent to kill off any grass, so at least there was no debris kicked up by the artificial cyclone. Troops began to disgorge from the chopper the moment the wheels touched grass, running straight out, hunched over, weapons in hand. Dave slowly turned to face them, his hands clearly away from his body. "You David Belsus?" The voice was pissed, loud, and behind him. Oops. Of course the team leader was on the first chopper that landed. Hadn't Carter harped something about leading from the front? "That's me." A short, strongly muscled man stepped around into Dave's field of view. "You blew my fucking op, dammit. Hunting these boys down was my job." "Considering the number of women enslaved to these fucking animals you clearly aren't doing your fucking job!" "Don't piss me off asshole. I'm willing to consider you're one of the good guys, for now. Fuck with me and I'll throw you in a hole so deep, you'll water the rice paddies in China when you pee." Dave wisely shut the fuck up. Carter had told him there were two very important times to know in the military; when to shut up, and when to shut the fuck up . This seemed like the latter. "You got the wanna bees at your house. A few real troops here. You got lucky, Boy Scout. Stand down and let us do our jobs." Before the short, powerfully built man turned away, Dave noted the nametape on the man's uniform; Barnett. The two chevrons upside down on the top of his rank insignia meant he was a Technical Sergeant; an E-6, a middle level NCO. "Sergeant Barnett?" Dave called to get his attention. The little bantam turned, one eyebrow cocked. "The kids in this place haven't been fed breakfast yet. My partner is inside the community building with a few women who've been stuck here for over a month. They're getting something cooked up while the nurse moves the kids. You think you can let that plan roll forward? Otherwise, you'll have some cranky kids to deal with soon. "Is she armed?" "My partner?" Dave got a nod in response. "Yes, she has a slung rifle and a holstered pistol. If you go in cautious, and announce yourself, there shouldn't be a problem. Or you can send me in ahead of you." "Sure, fine. Just know if you try anything stupid, my two partners behind you will drop you in a heartbeat." "I think we understand each other." Dave stepped off deliberately, at a steady pace, getting around the corner of the building with Sgt Barnett two arm's lengths to his right. He could hear the soft footsteps in the grass of two more people behind him. Barnett wasn't bluffing. Dave reached the door of the cafeteria space. He knocked twice, then slowly opened it. "Hey, Liv? It's me, I'm coming in. There's some Air Force folks with me. Keep your weapons holstered and your hands visible. These folks seem a mite twitchy." Olivia stood in the Archway between the dining side and the kitchen side. The sounds of pans and utensils and sizzling meat were quickly joined by the aroma of bacon. Dave's stomach grumbled. Two voices behind him tittered. Seems his guards and executioners heard him. They guffawed when Barnett's stomach responded. "Should we let you two get a plate boss?" The laughing voice behind Dave almost had a Tinkerbell fairy quality to it. Great. My erstwhile executioner leaves pixie dust in her wake. Liv kept quiet. Verbally that is. Her eyes were laughing though. Laughing loud enough to make up for the silence of her lips. "No, they're cooking for a bunch of hungry kids. Leave 'em alone." Barnett paused, looking between Liv and Dave, and sizing them up. "You two, one at a time, very carefully, place your weapons on that back counter. You're closer, young lady, so you go first." Liv sighed, staying stony faced. Dave widened his eyes and nodded his head, with a slight tilt towards the counter. With an exasperated exhale, she unslung her rifle, touching only the sling, and only with her thumb, laying it on the counter. In doing so, she now had her back to the archway leading to the kitchen. She deliberately used her left hand to remove her pistol. Liv then placed it beside the rifle. Her combat knife came next. Placing it with her firearms, she stepped away from the counter and faced the others. "Boot knife." Barnett said flatly. "Excuse me?" Liv asked blankly. "Remove the knife from your boot and place it on the table." Liv pursed her lips, rolled her eyes, and then complied. Tinkerbell tittered. "Step over there." Dave waved his arm towards the opposite corner from where Liv had been, along the wall separating the kitchen space and the dining space. Olivia moved as indicated, her eyes locked on the two behind Dave. "Okay, now you." Dave walked to the counter. He unslung his SMG, again, using only his thumb, and placed it beside Liv's rifle. With open, deliberate motions, his pistol quickly followed. "Don't make me say it again." "I don't have any knives. Never been any good with 'em." Liv snorted. "You shittin me? You came in here with no knife? Better a weapon you're only mediocre with than no weapon at all." Dave just shrugged. "You're doing a great job of convincing me you merely got lucky; twice; rather than win by skill and teamwork." Dave elected not to rise to barb. "Stand over there with your girlfriend." Dave turned and walked along the wall. He took the opportunity to look at the two guards. One was a wasp waisted, svelte brunette with her hair back in a bun. The other; fucking well looked like Tinkerbelle. Pale skin, silky blonde hair in a braid that wrapped around her head like a home-grown crown. Give her a pair of wings and no one would even blink if she claimed to be the fictional character. Well, Tinkerbelle never carried an M4 with a daylight scope. Sure as shit would have given that saucy wink though. Once Dave was beside Livy, Barnett spoke to the two of them. "You will both get a full debriefing at headquarters. For now, let's start with the disposition of the corpse of one Andrew Bilk. He was a very rich man, and someone wants an accounting of his death. Starting with where his body is." "Out in the grass. The goons in this camp had his body on the floor, up against the wall there" Dave pointed, "since we had kids coming in soon, I thought it best to get him out of here, so I carried him out into the grass near the other bodies. He's the one in the silk pajamas." "Silk pajamas? That should be easy to distinguish." "Oh, uh Sergeant Barnett? There is a time critical element here. The blonde lady we rescued first, Natasha, she was bound to the rich guy; Bilk you said? Anyway, she needs to be re-partnered. I don't know the exact timeline, but he died around or just after midnight. Problem is, the nurse around here couldn't get any more semen out of the rich guy's nuts, so her only shot is if a lab geek can eke out enough for her. She and the body need to get back to Dallas fast." "Right. Okay, Silvia?" The brunette focused on Barnett. "Yes, sergeant?" "Find this Natasha woman, get her and the silk clad corpse on a chopper and send them back now." "Yes, sergeant." She slipped out the door like vanishing smoke. "Also," Dave interjected, "in the houses are several women that the nurse, Parker, was forced to re-pair from the rich guy to one of these clowns. That was this morning, so they're all in imprinting sleep at the moment. The ones that imprinted later might be able to recognize which redneck imprinted which blonde." Barnett raised an eyebrow. "Apparently, the rich guy had a fixation with blondes." Tinkerbelle ran a hand down her side, giving her body a little wriggle as she did so. "Alright, I'll let lab techs and medicos sort that mess out. We've got a convoy of trucks enroute to haul these folks back to Dallas." As Barnett spoke, the sound of rotors could be heard. As the sound built, the door opened and five kids went straight to the nearest table. Parker followed in after them. "Oh, hey Dave. Listen, some Air Force woman pulled Natasha away. I think they just left on a chopper." Dave nodded. "Are you the nurse that used the Dead Man's Switch on these women?" Barnett asked. Parker stiffened. "Yes, I am. It was either that or let them die." "Relax, I'm not your judge or your jury. I'm just trying to establish a few facts and identities. Do you think you can remember which woman paired with which man?" "Not all of them, but some. The first was the one with the enormous" she suddenly remembered there were kids in the room, "uh, assets. The boss man took her for himself." "Okay, that's fine. Uh, Jessie, think you can find a notepad for ;” "Parker." "Parker here to write down what she remembers on the pairings this morning. The ones from before should be able to tell us themselves." The short blonde exited with haste. Parker checked in with the kids before approaching the sergeant. "Can I check in with the kitchen, to see when their breakfast is ready?" "No need," said Rory, passing through the arch with a plate in each hand, "breakfast is served." Sandy was right behind her, carrying three plates, one in her left hand, and two more up her left arm. The kids cheered. Sandy also had silverware in her right hand. She set that down first. Unburdened, Rory came across the room to Dave. "Listen, Parker mentioned being paired increases a man's metabolism. We made some extra. Would you like something?" "What if the kids want seconds?" "We made enough in case the older two ask for seconds, and still serve a couple of adults." "Like me and the sergeant here?" Rory grinned, "Correct. Why don't you two sit, and I'll bring out two more plates." "I appreciate that, Rory, but Liv hasn't eaten either. Neither has Parker, or you, or ;” "I know, I know, I've got five more servings in here. Sandy and I can make more shortly." "You don't ha--" "Hush. I want to." She leaned in close. "It helps keep my mind off other things." Immediately, Rory exited to the kitchen. Sandy followed after. As they passed through the arch, Jessie, the little blonde Air Force attack pixie came back bearing a portfolio containing a yellow legal pad and a pen. She handed that off to Parker and found herself an out of the way spot along the wall. Dave watched as Parker took a seat several spaces down from the children. After staring blankly at the page for almost a minute, she began writing at a steady pace. Absorbed in watching her, Dave was surprised when Sandy brought him a plate and silverware. Bacon, scrambled eggs, and toast. A perfectly worthy American breakfast. As he ate, Dave noted his companion / captor's face. The man's fair skin was as unpale as possible without adding descriptors like 'sun-kissed'. His jet-black hair strongly suggested an eastern or southern European heritage. That presumption was supported by the darkening along his jawline. Clearly a man that had to shave twice a day to remain within military regs. Unless of course, he went undercover, in which case he could grow a partial disguise in short order. Liv caught his eye as she returned from the kitchen. She took a seat next to Dave, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before digging into the scrambled eggs on the plate of food she'd carried in. She giggled at his pro forma protest when she stole a piece of bacon off his plate. Liv, on one side of Dave, missed the small grin on Barnett's face over the exchange. Her partner saw it though. Another enlisted woman came through the door carrying a sizable hardcase, the kind that usually has thick foam padding inside. She proceeded directly to the counter and swiftly stowed the weapons in the case. Then she carried the case back outside. "We're going to cycle the civilians through here for some breakfast before we entrain for Dallas," Barnett said. "When you're through here, meet me out on the lawn space where we started. Both of you." "You got it." Barnett took his plate and silverware through the kitchen archway. Shortly after, Dave heard the outer door to the kitchen open and close. Dave took a few more minutes to finish his meal. Liv spoke as he arranged his silverware on his plate. "Before you go, you should talk with Aurora. I think you two have something to share." Dave looked at her flatly. "She'd bonded, Liv." The young woman's smile broadened. "Not quite what I meant." Then she grew serious. "Just talk to her. Really, I think it could be good for both of you." She smirked when Dave walked away, fixing her with a wary eye. He found the sink, with a dishwasher beside it. Quickly, he rinsed his plate, placing it in the dishwasher. Rory and Sandy both objected, but he waved them off. Dave went ahead and rinsed the plate and silverware in the sink as well, along with a few cooking utensils. After drying his hands, he approached Rory. "Olivia said we should talk. She didn't say what about. Is this just her idea, or something you want to discuss?" Rory looked downward and swallowed. She looked back up. The haunted look in her eyes tugged at Dave's heart. Sandy noted their faces and suggested they step outside for a private conversation. Rory took his hand and led Dave out of the kitchen's heat and into the cool damp outside. Following her example, he leaned one shoulder against the wall, facing her. He waited for her to speak. "When we were surveying the houses; checking on the women and kids; Liv was asking me how I got here, what I dealt with getting here and being here. Honestly, she was just trying to make conversation. She didn't know what that would lead to." Dave waited again as Rory screwed up her resolve. Hopefully, his eyes were communicating support and patience. He could try speaking words of comfort or support, but the moment seemed too fragile to withstand him saying anything. "One of her questions was why didn't I try to escape after we were captured, before we were imprinted. Or why didn't we try signaling for help once we were stuck here. I can't speak for the others, but; I was not in a good place mentally when I was captured." She paused again, but not as long this time. Her shoulders came inward though, like she was trying to shrink; or hide. "Casey, the man I was supposed to partner with after getting my vaccine shot, is a good friend. He; spent time, when he could, talking to me by Zoom after; after ;” Rory shook with silent sobs. In Dave's heart, he knew what was coming next. The cold hand that gripped him, sapped the joy out of moments with his new family. His brain kept trying to reject the knowledge. Finally, she looked him directly in the eyes. Her composure shattered. "I had two daughters. They were both teenagers." As her tears poured out, Dave stepped in closer, wrapping his arms around her, his own visage twisted with the shared pain. He said nothing, merely held her for several minutes. When her shaking subsided, he waited a bit more. Finally, he took a deep breath and brought his mouth near her ear. With a shaky voice, he said, "My son's name was Eddie. He was twenty-three years old." Her arms around him tightened. Neither spoke. Several minutes later, Rory pulled her head back, an empathetic look on her face. She kissed Dave on the cheek and went back inside. Dave took a few minutes to collect himself. Feeling reasonably steady, he walked around the building. Liv and Barnett were there, waiting. "Okay, so here's what's happening. Most of these people are going back by truck. The convoy is nearly here. You two have a date with Air Force Intel, DPD, and possibly the FBI. You're going back in a chopper, now." Barnett paused, giving Dave a moment to process what he'd said. "Is that white pickup about three hundred meters back along the entry road yours?" "Yes." "Keys." "Excuse me?" "Gimme your keys. I'll have one of my people drive it with the convoy. We'll have it waiting for you when the intel boys and detectives decide to loosen the thumbscrews." Dave pulled his keys out and tossed them to the sergeant. "What about our weapons?" "They'll be in your vehicle." Dave nodded in acknowledgment. Jessie, the little pixie blonde, motioned for Dave and Liv to follow her. She led them to the nearby chopper and walked them through the seat harness mechanism. Two other Air Force personnel took seats on either side of the pair. Jessie returned to Barnett as the rotors began to move. Two minutes later, Dave watched the ground recede. Air Force personnel were scattered all over the compound. As of yet none of the kids had been in the big grassy area where the bodies lay. Just as the nose dipped and turned, Dave caught sight of military trucks edging down the dirt road into the camp. To be continued in part 12, Based on a post by RonanJWilkerson, in 12 parts, for Literotica.

Most people don't find out they have kidney damage until it's too late. Discover 18 early signs of kidney problems that often occur before the damage is too severe. When it comes to chronic kidney disease, prevention is key.0:00 Introduction: Kidney function explained 2:11 Early kidney damage signs 3:00 Stages of kidney disease 3:48 What destroys kidney health?7:07 18 visible kidney damage signs 10:08 How to prevent kidney diseaseHealthy kidneys are imperative to your overall health. The kidneys are situated deep within the rib cage, and have your adrenal glands on top. Each filtering unit of the kidney, called a nephron, contains a highly concentrated network of capillaries. There are 1 million nephrons in each kidney! This number often decreases with age, although it typically does not cause many symptoms. Kidneys are very good at compensating, even if they're 50% damaged. One of the earliest kidney health warning signs is protein in the urine. At-home urine tests detect the albumin-creatinine ratio, which you want to keep below 30 mg/g. The stages of chronic kidney disease are associated with specific percentages of nephron loss:Stage 2: 20% loss Stage 3: 60% lossStage 4: 85% lossStage 6: 95% lossThe good news is that if you catch kidney disease in time, it can be reversed. The following factors often cause kidney disease: •Ultra-processed foods •PFAS•Insulin resistance •Medications•Low vitamin D •Low magnesium •Low omega-3s •Poor sleep Here are 18 early signs of kidney disease:1. Puffy eyes 2. Swollen feet3. Swollen hands 4. Sudden weight gain5. Foamy urine6. Itchy skin 7. Pale skin 8. Dark circles under the eyes9. Bruise easily10. Dark urine11. Blood in the urine12. Less urine output13. Constantly tired 14. Restless legs syndrome15. Muscle cramps16. Poor appetite 17. Bad breath18. Nail changes Work closely with your doctor if you have stage 5 kidney disease!For your best kidney health, try increasing the following foods and nutrients:•Vitamin D, magnesium, and phosphorus •Omega-3 fatty acids•Fish and dairy•Green tea•Vegetables •Zinc•TUDCA•Curcumin Dr. Eric Berg DC Bio:Dr. Berg, age 60, is a chiropractor who specializes in Healthy Ketosis & Intermittent Fasting. He is the Director of Dr. Berg Nutritionals and author of the best-selling book The Healthy Keto Plan. He no longer practices, but focuses on health education through social media.Disclaimer: Dr. Eric Berg received his Doctor of Chiropractic degree from Palmer College of Chiropractic in 1988. His use of “doctor” or “Dr.” in relation to himself solely refers to that degree. Dr. Berg is a licensed chiropractor in Virginia, California, and Louisiana, but he no longer practices chiropractic in any state and does not see patients, so he can focus on educating people as a full-time activity, yet he maintains an active license. This video is for general informational purposes only. It should not be used to self-diagnose, and it is not a substitute for a medical exam, cure, treatment, diagnosis, prescription, or recommendation. It does not create a doctor-patient relationship between Dr. Berg and you. You should not make any change in your health regimen or diet before first consulting a physician and obtaining a medical exam, diagnosis, and recommendation. Always seek the advice of a physician or other qualified health provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition.

Tonight we bring you an unsettling missing time experience, creepy ghostly activity, puzzling glowing globs and so much more. Keep it spooky and enjoy. Season 20 Episode 20 of Monsters Among Us Podcast, true paranormal stories of ghosts, cryptids, UFOs and more, told by the witnesses themselves. SHOW NOTES:  Support the show! Get ad-free, extended & bonus episodes (and more) on Patreon - https://www.patreon.com/monstersamonguspodcast Tonight's Sponsor - Mint Mobile - Get 3, 6 or 12 months of premium wireless service from Mint Mobile for just $15/month, visit MintMobile.com/MAU MAU Merch Shop - https://www.monstersamonguspodcast.com/shop MAU Discord - https://discord.gg/2EaBq7f9JQ Watch FREE - Shadows in the Desert: High Strangeness in the Borrego Triangle  - https://www.borregotriangle.com/ Monsters Among Us Junior on Apple Podcasts  - https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/monsters-among-us-junior/id1764989478 Monsters Among Us Junior on Spotify - https://open.spotify.com/show/1bh5mWa4lDSqeMMX1mYxDZ?si=9ec6f4f74d61498b Died in House website - https://diedinhouse.com/ Speakeasy Music EVP - https://www.youtube.com/shorts/ZGLWA69Cw0c Illinois Music EVP - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W5R_ztz-Y-Q Ontario Canada Music EVP - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mw5UMUx3rPU What are plasmoids - https://ntrs.nasa.gov/api/citations/20030067853/downloads/20030067853.pdf#:~:text=A%20plasmoid%20is%20a%20compact%20plasma%20structure,toroidal%20magnetic%20field%20(B%2C%20and%20Bt%2C%20respectively). Plasmoids video - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lUu0BZ0JhZs 2024 paper on UAPs - https://www.scirp.org/journal/paperinformation?paperid=136922#f1 Music from tonight's episode: Music by Iron Cthulhu Apocalypse - https://www.youtube.com/c/IronCthulhuApocalypse CO.AG Music - https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCcavSftXHgxLBWwLDm_bNvA Music By Karl Casey @ White Bat Audio - https://www.youtube.com/@WhiteBatAudio White Bat Audio Songs: White Lotus Monolith Crash Site Alien Ruins

A Holiday Haunting: Part 1 Jack returns home and reconnects with his old ghost crush. Based on a post by zeon 67. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels. Oh. Shit! She's back. Jack had to drop everything and run to the living room; he needed to see her again. His coffee mug shattering against the kitchen floor meant little to him. Jack followed her out of the room, stumbling into the den and crashed into a chair. Any pain that he felt was instantly ignored; he just had to see her face. But she phased through the bookcase, leaving him disappointed. Ten years. It had been ten years since Jack had last seen Erin. Just a brief peek of her ghostly form, and Jack was a teenager again. The first time he met Erin, he was thirteen. Jack's parents had dragged the family from Boston to live in a stock horror mansion outside Portland, Maine. He hated everything about it, feeling depressed, isolated from his old life. Then he saw her. She appeared late one night as Jack attempted to fall asleep. His eyes widened as this woman floated in front of his bed. She wore a bulky, dark shirt with a lighter collar, a long apron over a skirt that reached her ankles and sensible shoes. Pale skin and white hair held up in a professional bun. She stood translucent and hovered a foot off the ground. Jack was freaking out, shaking under the covers and trying to release a scream. But watching her body float, her head crooked to the side with a curious smile, Jack felt an eerie calm. He sat up in his bed and examined her further. She was beautiful, an oval face with dimples, full lips, and wide, expressive eyes. He tried to guess her age, but it was impossible due to her intangible form. "Hello;" Jack said. His voice was hoarse and unconvincing. She smiled again at him before disappearing. "Fuck." Jack immediately fainted. He awoke late in the morning, still shaken. Jack ran down to his family, yelling at them in the kitchen at what he had just seen. His parents responded with blank looks. His sisters both snickered, cracking jokes about Jack's nighttime activities, and how it must have affected his brain. But as he continued, the jokes stopped, and soon Jack had weekly sessions with Dr. Miller. It was like a month until he saw her again. Jack was alone in the house and found Erin standing in between his bed. He screamed this time, but Erin just replied with a smile. She looked amused by his actions. She disappeared, and Jack had to wait another month before catching her on the stairs. But he had a plan, knowing what he should do the next time he ever saw her again. "Jack!" His mother yelled from upstairs. "What Happened!" Jack rolled his eyes. "It's nothing. I dropped my mug." He shouted back up, praying that his parents won't come down. Tomorrow was Thanksgiving, and Jack had returned home early, hoping just to relax and forget about Laura. Retreating into the kitchen, he ignored the mess he'd left behind. He wasn't that heartbroken about the end of the relationship; he just needed to get out of Boston for a while. Jack filled up a glass of water and took a couple of gulps, trying to steady himself. The plan was to drink, eat loads and watch football. But now, Jack was instantly consumed by the need to see Erin again.   Erin's Further Revelations. Jack rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. He guessed that it was probably two in the morning. He should be asleep, but restless energy had overpowered him, just like when he was a teenager. The weeks after her second appearance, Jack woke early in the morning and saw Erin staring out of the window. She turned to him and then disappeared. Every couple of weeks, he would see Erin around the house, mostly in his room, but always when he was alone. Whenever Jack saw her, Erin would disappear, fade into nothing in front of him. After a dozen or so appearances, Erin and Jack got used to seeing each other over the year. He would see her, and they would exchange brief smiles before would Erin dissolve. Jack got used to finding her in random places, occasionally pretending that she was never there when Erin materialized during family dinners. Though she mostly appeared in his room. He was also sure that he was the only one who could see her, which developed a special bond as he aged. It was just a shame they couldn't talk to each other. Whatever break in the dimensions that brought her here didn't allow them to speak or hear one another. Over the years, Jack and Erin relied on non-verbal communication, making up their own sign language while also writing out words on paper. Jack's parents were weirded out one Christmas when he asked for a dry erase board. He would come home from school and rush to his room, wondering if that day was the day she would appear. If he found her there, Jack would tell her about his day, what had changed since they last spoke, and random thoughts in his head. She would eagerly listen to him and try to respond in her own way. She had become this nonjudgmental friend that he could bounce off from as he dealt with his new surroundings and the horror of puberty. It took two years for Jack to know Erin's name. They were together in his room; the house was empty apart from them. It felt that Erin had trained herself to emerge only when he was alone. Jack sat on his bed, talking to Erin. For the hundredth time, he had asked her name. She led him to the bathroom and pointed to the faucet. Running the hot water, he saw Erin smile as the bathroom mirror started to fog up. She clenched her jaw and pressed a finger up against the glass. Erin's face strained as her form became clearer as she wrote 'ERIN' in the mirror. The smile on Jack's face then quickly vanished as Erin faded into nothing. He wouldn't see her for another two months. Jack rolled onto his stomach, feeling his cock throb against his leg. Without any prompting, his mind cast back when he turned 18, and Erin gave him a special present. It was one of the few times that Erin appeared, when there were other people in the house. He was half-asleep, playing on his PlayStation when she materialized. Jack shuffled back and collapsed on the bed. There was something off about her that night, her body was trembling, and her face was stone-like. With great energy, her lips curled into a smile, and there was a flash. The clothing that Jack had always seen her in the last five years had disappeared into nothing, leaving her naked. A loud guttural groan escaped Jack's mouth; it was the first time he had seen a naked woman. Her body was slim, graceful, like a dancer, and perfect. He stared at her small but firm tits; Jack assumed they were B-cups and wished he could have his hands over them. Her skin then began to change, turning from a clear white to a fair skin tone. He noticed rusty-colored freckles dot around her angular nose framed by long reddish-brown hair. Then two bright green eyes stared back, overwhelming him. "Fuck," Jack whispered. His mouth dry, his stomach twisted into knots, and all the blood drained into his penis. He was in love or lust; it was all the same back then to him. Jack rolled off the bed and waddled to the bathroom, holding out the used tissue as far away from him as if it was toxic. He was only exposed to her for a few moments before she vanished. Still, Erin's naked form had been seared entirely in his brain, giving him special comfort during lonely nights. Dumping the balled-up tissue in the toilet, he started washing his hands. The general feeling of self-disgust hit him, but this time with more power. He was fantasizing about a long-dead woman. It's not right. He crawled back into his bed and reached for his laptop. Opening the browser, Jack thought to himself for a moment before going to incognito mode. He might need some privacy should anyone have a look at his search history. In the search bar, he typed 'Medium Psychic, And Portland, Maine.'   Ophelia's Services. The doorbell rang, and Jack quickly set down his coffee and rushed to the door. He briefly checked himself out in the hallway mirror; he looked normal. Jack wanted to make sure that he pulled that off, a navy oxford shirt, black jeans, and white sneakers, that all screamed normal to him. Jack then mentally thought about what he was going to say to the medium. It wasn't like he had a lot of experience in this. He could tell her about Erin, maybe use her name. Also, he could say where she usually appears and does. Probably shouldn't mention Erin getting naked as some kind of birthday present. He then wished that the medium agreed a later time just so he could rationalize having a drink. During Thanksgiving dinner, Jack told his family that he wanted to stay in Maine for a while, maybe until after Christmas. He had exaggerated the effects that the disintegration of his relationship with Laura had on him. It was a blatant lie; his parents knew it, his sisters didn't care, but no one really questioned it. He prayed that none of them would ever find out that he booked a medium. This Ophelia from Portland, Jack didn't know what he wanted from her. From movies, he had been told that ghosts that roam around usually have unfinished business. If somehow the medium was legit and could talk to Erin, he didn't know if it would be best if Erin moved on. Opening the door, a young woman stood, waiting impatiently. Their eyes met, and Jack was stunned to find his assumptions shattered. He was expecting a woman in her fifties, heavy makeup, and lots of necklaces, someone like that Long Island psychic. Instead, a woman stood in front of him who looked like she was in her twenties, with blonde wavy hair and a curvy figure. She gave an impression of an Instagram influencer with tight high-waisted jeans, a simple tee, and a suede jacket. "Jack Taylor?" she said, pinching her mouth shut and curving her lips upward. "Ophelia?" Jack arched an eyebrow without thinking. She nodded and walked past him, taking in the house. A Victorian-style mansion, built in the 1860s, with five bedrooms, a parlor, a giant fireplace that could fit a body, a near-constant fog-covered backyard, and a bloody-red painted door. She looked unimpressed. Ophelia raised her hands and fluttered her fingers, doing a sort of jazz hands while slowly spinning. Jack had no idea what he was supposed to be feeling, but she's young and hot. Was this a con? Did he want it to be one? "Do you want anything to drink?" Jack asked, trying to get a read of the situation. He then glanced at the clock. His parents should be home in a couple of hours; he had time. "I'm fine." She replied, flashing another smile. "Should we deal with the money first?" Taken back, he slowly reached for his wallet and pulled $150 in cash. He looked at the money and felt grateful that he would only pay an extra fifty if the reading exceeded the hour. Handing her the folded bills, Jack felt a breeze. Then the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Erin. He had been sensing her a lot, recently. "Nice house. Really Stephen King-like." Ophelia gave another forced smile. "Can you give me a tour?" Jack nodded and he took her to the home office, explaining what he had seen the other day. Ophelia took a quick photo and hummed; she felt nothing. Jack then led her around the house, describing where he had seen Erin and what she would do. Ophelia stayed quiet for most of the tour, her phone in her hand, occasionally checking it. He then explained his relationship with Erin. Jack recounted every meeting he had with her, including how he found out her name. When Jack said that he was the only one in the house that had ever seen Erin, he noticed a quick change in Ophelia's face. She definitely assumed that he's psychotic. As they climbed the stairs to Jack's bedroom, Ophelia suddenly became talkative. She put away her phone and asked several questions at rapid-fire speed. "So, who previously owned the house before you moved in? Erin, do you know her last name? Where she's from? Was she born here? Has anyone called Erin lived in the house before?" Jack knew nothing. He had known Erin for ten years and yet knew nothing about her. The house must have been her home or where she worked. He now knew what he had to find out, but Jack had no idea how he would research such things. Speak to a local historian, maybe? He should go to the library tomorrow. They entered his bedroom, a familiar feeling of cold hit his body again. Jack eyed the psychic; there was no change in her body language. Maybe she's a fake. Ophelia wandered around the room, doing the jazz hands again and calling Erin's name. His eyes narrowed on her chest, then to her slim waist, and then to her tight ass; she looked cute. It had been some time since Jack had anything close to sex. It ended with Laura over two months ago, and since then, a brunette ghost was the only thing he had to female company. Ophelia reached in her jeans and pulled out a velvet pouch. Opening it up, a nub of chalk fell into her palm. She then bent down and drew a circle just in front of Jack's bed. The circle was about three feet wide. Ophelia then drew four smaller circles inside the ring, north, east, south, and west. Jack watched her place crystals in each circle, wondering if he would be able to clean the chalk off his floor. "What are you going to do?" Jack asked, trying not to stare at the medium's ass. "I am going to summon Erin. I am going to see if we can talk to her and find out her unfinished business." "What would her unfinished business be?" "It could be anything," Ophelia said, looking around the room. "Some want revenge, especially if they were like murdered. Others are looking for missing rings, lockets or whatever. With my help, Erin could be able to move on." Jack nodded. She was right. It was fun seeing her again, he missed talking to her, but there had to be some conclusion for Erin. After Christmas, he will be back in Boston. Maybe it was best that she moved on, got closure from this world. The psychic then took off her boots and stood inside the circle. Kneeling, Ophelia raised her arms, praying to the ceiling. "Erin; Erin; Erin;" she chanted, raising her head, "Speak to us. Speak; Erin, come to us; come to Jack and me." She sang Erin's name a couple of times with no change in her composure. "Yes, Erin, I hear you. How can we help you?" Ophelia said, lacking any emotion. "How can we help you move?" Ophelia then went silent and very still. Her back was arched, and her head pointed up. Leaning in, Jack realized that her chest wasn't moving anymore; was she even breathing? Beads of sweat flowed down her face as the rest of the body began to tremble. Something was wrong. Ophelia then shuddered and Jack could see the color disappear from her face. She then slowly stood up. Looking at Jack, she gave him a warm smile. "Jack!" Ophelia then said, emphasizing the wrong parts of the name. Jack walked around and stood in front of her. Her body language was weird, not so closed off as it was before. Her eyes then focused on her left hand, marveling how far it was extended. The tips of her fingers then ran down Jack's chest. The broad grin on Ophelia's face got even wider as she felt him up. "It is me, Jack; Erin." Ophelia grinned. "No." Jack shook his head and took a step back. This had to be some weird psychic con. Was Ophelia going to sleep with him? "Ophelia, I think you should get out." "I am Erin." She closed the distance and reached for his hand. "I can prove it. You told me everything and I listened. Once you were overly excited in your classroom by a teacher. You frequently enjoy lobster rolls. And once I removed my clothing for you on your birthday." Jack whimpered, trying to collect his thoughts. Before he called Ophelia, he had read up on cold reading, but she knew things that he had never shared with anyone. Jack hit his bed frame and toppled over, hitting the mattress. He tried to compute what was going on, justify Ophelia's insider knowledge of him. But then the blonde climbed up on the bed, her body floating as she straddled him. This was real. "Jack; I missed you." Ophelia or Erin then leaned in and kissed him forcibly. Quickly sneaking her tongue into his mouth while she rubbed her body against his. Moaning as his tongue dueled, Jack was lost in a world of teenage lust. He had dreams about this, spent countless hours awkwardly pleasuring himself to the fantasy of having sex with Erin. But as he opened his eyes and remembered the blonde hair that flowed above him, this wasn't Erin. Maybe in spirit, but not in body. He pulled his face away and sighed. "Erin; no." Jack said, trying to push the possessed medium off him. "Not like this." "What?" Ophelia screamed. She shot back up and glared at him. Her eyes became demonic and bloodshot. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, breaking his skin. She began to shake and wail. "No; No; No!" "Erin; Erin!" Jack tried to get her attention. He reached up and gently touched her face. "I just want to talk to you. Please leave Ophelia." Ophelia's face contorted into a smile. Jack could tell that something was pushing back against Erin. Maybe it was the medium's spirit wanting to regain her body. She thrashed around on top of him, going from sweating to shivering to back to sweating again. Jack snuck out of her convulsing frame and watched with concern. The medium then slammed into the mattress, bounced high up in the air, and then back down. Jack watched her breathe slowly and rolled onto her back. She looked confused and tired. "What the fuck happened?" Ophelia asked as she sat up, her frazzled hair covering her face.   Researching the Franklins. Jack ended the call and rubbed his eyes. The pains of working remotely, struggling to stay productive while also being forced to over communicate just so he won't be called a slacker was too much. The only good thing about his job was that he could move back to Maine and still collect a paycheck. But yet, he hated taking calls from his bosses when it's technically his day off. He knew he shouldn't be cursing his luck. Last night, his parents gave him some excellent news. They needed to go to Springfield and help out Jack's aunt with something. Jack wasn't listening, just focusing on the part when his mom said that they will not be returning until Christmas Eve. Yes, it meant that Jack would have to prepare the house for the holidays, put up the tree, buy the food and sort out the presents. But it also meant that he would be alone in the house; he could plan and try to talk to Erin. Maybe even help her. Finishing his latte, Jack looked up the address for the library and the closing time. Since Ophelia's possession, Jack hadn't sensed Erin's presence. It was worrying. He tried to focus on absorbing as much information about the house. Jack learned that the house was built in 1860 for the Franklins. For more information, he had to drive into the city. As he walked into the library, his heart was thumping in his chest and sweat coated his forehead. Why was he so nervous? Yeah, he had created this pubescent fantasy, and Jack wasn't sure how he would react if that was cracked. What if Erin was an awful person; her death could have been just, and that she was using him. But he still had to find out. Jack sat down at the computer and entered his address and the Franklins in the search bar. Skimming through the records, he got a brief understanding of the family that built his home. Jedidiah Franklin was a local lender who had moved from Boston to Maine due to some unpleasantness. He was followed by his wife, Alice and their two children, Robert and Emma. Franklins lived a dull and typical life and died in the 1900s. "Nothing about Erin," He went through local newspapers and again found nothing odd. Going through the search results, Jack quickly realized that he had been wasting his time, and it was pointless. By the time he reached the fourteenth page, he was about to leave. But instead, he clicked on the link about a stagecoach accident involving the Franklins. Jedidiah, Alice, Robert, and their maid were returning late one night. Their stagecoach collided with a rock, and the maid was thrown out. She died instantly. The article gave the maid's name as Erin O'Ceallachain. Letting out a loud sigh and rubbing his face, Jack then searched for Erin O'Ceallachain. There was little about her. A short obituary that stated she was born somewhere in Ireland and died in 1898. She had been a maid for the Franklins for close to a year. There were no descriptions of her or any clues of her past. Jack leaned back and stared at the screen. It could be her. He had checked; there were no other women called Erin that lived in the house. This could be her. But, if she died on the road, then why was she haunting his home. The loud sound of his phone vibrating against the desk pulled him out of his thoughts. Jack saw that he got a text from Ophelia. She really wanted to speak to him. Ignoring her, Jack continued his deep-dive on the Franklins, trying to find anything. Even a morsel of information about the family would help. After another hour of research, he ended up on the website of an antique bookstore in Bangor. They had Alice Franklin's diary and it was for sale.   Tomes of Inquiry. Two days later, Jack sat in the home office and stared at the five-hundred-dollar book. It was too much; he should have tried to haggle them down. Jack wasn't even sure if the diary would be useful; it could be another Alice Franklin or just a list of mundane observations. Jack finished another beer and opened the diary. His hands were trembling with every turn of the page. Either he was nervous or just drunk, he couldn't tell. The pages were filled with fine late-twentieth-century cursive writing that was hard to read. Jack slowly read out each entry, making out every second word. The diary covered the time Erin had already started working for the Franklins to her death if it was the same Alice Franklin. He skimmed through the journal until stopping at an entry made on January 28th, 1898, where Alice mentioned hiring a new maid called Erin. March Twenty-first, Eighteen Ninety-eight ;  I saw Robert engaged young Erin in the library. How I wish we do not have the same story as in Boston. August Fourteenth, Eighteen Ninety-eight ;  That green-eyed temptress was with my son again. The Roman whore has plans for him. Jedidiah sees nothing. He pushes his son. Then reacts in fury when Robert is in strife. November Sixth, Eighteen Ninety-eight;  Constable Standish and his ghastly son shared supper with us. He has eyes for Emma. A boor. My darling daughter would never fall that low. Robert is forlorn. I see his glances at young Erin. When I call for her, the freckled-face jezebel smiles innocently. Jedidiah will end her services in the new year. Jack paused from reading, and tried to make sense. Green eyes. Freckles. It had to be Erin. Jack skipped ahead a couple of weeks, getting closer to the time when Erin died. December Twentieth, Eighteen Ninety-eight ;  The Irish whore created a scene. Late in the evening, we found her under the influence. She screamed for Robert. She said she is with child. He is the father. She wants to be wed. That boy has ruined us. December Twenty-first, Eighteen Ninety-eight ;  A clear-headed Erin spoke to us in the morning. She lies that she is not with child. The Catholic loves Robert, or it seems. Jedidiah and I agree to end her service. We will send her to Bangor tonight. It is clear to us. December Twenty-ninth, Eighteen Ninety-eight ;  My heart is gone. Losing Emma is a great blow. They are to be wed in the next Spring. My son now lives in Boston. I pray his temperament is strong. Erin is gone, a life stopped by a stagecoach. Now I have an empty house. A lost daughter and a dead maid. Jack closed the diary and ran upstairs to his bedroom to grab his notepad, then came back down again. He needs to do more cardio. The two flights of stairs had destroyed him. He knew he had seen the name Standish somewhere. There at the family tree. After Erin's death, Emma married Nathanial Standish, son of the town constable. It made sense now; the Franklins murdered Erin and used the constable to help make it look like an accident. In return, they married Emma to his son to keep his silence. He knew what happened to Erin, but Jack wondered how he could help her. But; like what Ophelia said before, does he want her to move on to the next stage. It probably would be best for everyone. But if he could talk to her and discover her unfinished business, how could he help her. What if it meant getting vengeance on those that murdered her? What if it was on Franklin's living ancestors? The sound of the doorbell ringing jolted Jack from the thoughts of homicidal spirits. He checked his phone; it was nearly ten. Finishing another beer, Jack left the den and shuffled to the front door. He prayed that it wasn't his parents, that their stay in Massachusetts ended early, and now they wanted to talk about his future. "Ophelia?" Jack asked, opening the door.   Ophelia's Admissions. She stood there in the light rain, looking like another person. Far removed from the bored, unimpressed medium he saw days ago. She looked nervous, worried, but still attractive to Jack's eyes. The skirt she had on gave him a good view of her slender legs and made Jack think. Again, it had been two months since he last had sex, and he was now feeling it. "Hi," she said, barely audible. "Can I come in?" Jack nodded and let her pass. He tried not to look at her like that anymore; he needed to stay focused on Erin. "Look, I'm going to be honest with you. I'm a fake-ish. I go to people's houses and pretend that I feel something. I do a bit of cold reading, call out the spirits and then lie that they're talking back to me." Ophelia admitted. She paced back and forth as she spoke, nervousness flowing out from her. "Oh," Jack said, looking away. He didn't know what else he was supposed to say. "So, what are you doing here?" "Also, my name isn't Ophelia, it's Lucy. I felt Ophelia looked better on the website. Make it look real." She nervously smiled. "Why are you telling me this?" "Because;" she stepped forward, "what happened that day was real. I felt it, I really did." "Yeah?" Jack noticed that she was holding on to his hand like she was pleading with him. "I used to hear voices. I thought I was going crazy, but then I found out that I was hearing the dead; and I could talk to them. But I don't know, a mix of vodka, and my own cynicism; the spirits don't want to talk to me anymore. I want to feel like that again. I want to help you." Jack paused. Again, not knowing what to say. He felt that she could still be conning him, that she was going to ask for money. He still wasn't a hundred percent sure that Ophelia or Lucy was genuinely possessed by Erin. Then again, they could have had sex, which would be a weird move to pull when conning someone. Jack needed alcohol. "Do you want anything to drink?" He asked. "Please." Lucy nodded. Jack returned from the kitchen with a bottle of red wine and two glasses. It was the only alcoholic thing left in the house. After completely filling up both glasses on Lucy's request, he grabbed the diary and his notes, and they settled in the living room. He observed the psychic read the journal, his thoughts becoming more and more concerned about her looks. She had removed her thick coat, revealing a slinky tank top that gave him a glimpse of her bra. "So, you think Erin had sex with Robert Franklin; may have gotten pregnant; and the Franklins decide to murder her, to prevent a scandal?" "Yeah," Jack said, leaning in. There were both sitting on the sofa, awkwardly close together. "I don't know much or really anything about hauntings. But I only see Erin here. She must have been murdered here, and they faked the accident." "Erin being an Irish maid, the family are rich, and you got a friendly cop who is willing to help, if he gets a favor, that's a straightforward cover-up." Lucy smiled, patting Jack on the knee. "There is something we can do. I know people in the psychic and magic world. There's one girl who told me about this ritual-like thing. It's like a s ance on steroids. We can make her appear and we can talk to her. Then we can help her." "What's the catch? There is always a catch." "Not really. The s ance is a bit complicated and there is a shopping list, also it will be for a couple of hours only." "Sounds like a plan," Jack replied, raising a glass. They quickly finished their wine and poured some more.  Lucy asked him about his family and if they ever believed him. He told her about Dr. Miller, and how his dad would make the occasional jokes. When asked about their absence, Jack explained, and without realizing, underscoring that he had the whole house to himself. Jack then turned the attention on her, quizzing Lucy what happened when she first talked to a ghost; and what was the weirdest shit she had seen. As Lucy went through her backstory. Jack started picking up subtle clues about her. She was touching him more and getting close as she talked about hearing spirits when she turned thirteen. He tried to guess if Lucy was flirting with him, or was this some alcohol-induced delusion. After she finished her story about being asked to communicate with a woman's dead cat, they realized they were out of wine. Jack asked and quickly got another bottle on Lucy's insistence. "So, about you and Erin." She said, playing with the stem of her wine glass. "You were the only one to see her?  What relationship did you guys have?" "Like a friendship. Growing up; Erin was like my confidante. I would talk to her about every insane thought that was going through my head that day. I didn't know if she could hear me or not. It was comforting. I miss it. Guess that's why I'm here." "That's sweet." Lucy ran her hand down his thigh. "Sometimes I have some weird creeps that want to speak to their old teenage crushes, like teachers or neighbors that they used to jerk off to. It's nice to have a guy who just wants to reconnect to an old friend." Jack groaned. Looking at Lucy, his mind was made up, and he was sure that she was flirting with him. He should tell her the truth and see how she takes it. "I should tell you this. I have seen her naked." "Really?" Her eyes widened. "Yeah. On my 18th birthday, Erin appeared in my room and then flash, she's nude. She stood there for like a couple of seconds and poof, gone." Jack smiled, "That was the last time I saw her." "That's some present. Making me jealous." Lucy whispered, holding her gaze. "Really?" Jack said, leaning in. Lucy looked up at him, her tongue running over her pink lips. She craned her head forward and pressed her lips against his, her hand on the back of Jack's head, pulling him into her. Both were still holding their wine glasses, and Jack awkwardly pushed his mouth down on hers. Lucy's tongue shot out of her mouth and instantly snaked into his. They both softly moaned as Jack guided her body down on the sofa, nearly spilling her wine. She then suddenly stopped her tongue movements and pulled back. "Hold on, Ghostbuster." Lucy smirked, as she pushed Jack back upright. Taking the wine from his hands, she placed both glasses on the coffee table. With a shit-eating grin, Lucy grabbed Jack and resumed her mouth attack. Jack ran his hands down from her sides to her ass, pulling her on top of his lap. Lucy reached down and pressed her palm on Jack's bulge. She moaned into his mouth, sounding like she appreciated his size. She pulled her lips away, her attention now just all on his cock. Lucy fondled the turgid shaft through his pants, prompting it to throb in her hands. Jack leaned his head and slowly kissed down her neck, feeling her tremble in his arms. "Yes," Lucy said, closing her eyes and grinning. With a single-minded focus, Lucy unbuckled his jeans and yanked out his erect cock. Jack grunted, stunned by the blonde's eagerness. No other girl he had ever been with, was like this. They kept eye-contact as Lucy softly grasped his warm rigid shaft. Their lips met again while she stroked his cock, smearing her fingers with his oozing precum. While their tongues dueled again, Lucy's hand became a blur over his cock. They broke their kiss again, and Lucy lowered her head down, kissing his deep reddened tip. He watched in unbearable anticipation as she opened her mouth, but then instead of engulfing him, Lucy looked up and smirked. "Yeah, I'm bit of a slut," she said. "Just a bit? Jack grinned. "Okay, I'm a deeply deprived slut." She chuckled. Her very pink tongue then slid out of her mouth, and she licked up of his oozing fluid. Lucy took a moment to taste his precum, loudly humming and smiling at him. She then parted her lips and engulfed the bulging head in her wet mouth, firmly constricting, once his glans ridge was encased. Her tongue rubbed his frenulum, just under the tip.  She bobbed her head up and down, her firm round tits jiggling freely on his thighs, as she mouth-fucked him. "Oh; Fuck!" Jack grunted, taken by surprise by Lucy swallowing on more and more of his petrified cock. Lucy looked up and grinned at him again, before opening her mouth and engulfing him again. Her bright pink glossy lips slid up and down his shaft as she fucked him with her mouth. Then she sank til her nose rubbed his curly pubes, her teasing tongue gently caressed him as her throat muscle massaged his shaft, pushing his cock deeper. She hummed while she swallowed him, the hum of sucking filling the room. Her hands tightened their grip around his thighs as Lucy furiously pumped her lips up and down his cock. Once in a while, she would slowly pull his cock out, ever-so-gently running her teeth on the underside of his shaft while leaving huge trails of spit behind, then swallowing him again. It drove Jack mad in sexual bliss. She then wrapped her fingers firm around his meat again, lashing her tongue against his swollen cockhead, slurping up all the saliva and precum. Jack's balls were now sending messages to his brain, telling him that within seconds, he was going to cum; soon in big, bold letters. He also felt cold suddenly, and the hairs on the back of his neck were standing. He ignored that and watched the medium jerk him off, kissing his head as she worked the shaft of his phallus. Lucy stuck her tongue out and swirled it around his cock tip. But then he saw a figure near the TV. "Erin?" He said. She was right there and looked like she was in tears. A mix of fear and guilt hit him, destroying his previous horniness. But he still came, shooting thick loads into Lucy's face, hitting her in the lips and cheeks. She released her grip, but more jets of cum landed on her face. She raised her head and looked at Jack, the muscles in her face tensed, and her jaw clenched. "What the fuck, man? Give me some warning!" "Erin?" Jack said again, staring at the spirit. "Erin?" Lucy repeated. Her expression turned into an instant glare. But she followed Jack's gaze and looked over her shoulder, finding that they weren't alone. "Oh Fuck!" "No!" Erin screamed, deafening their ears. Her face was scrunched up in murderous intent. She lurched forward, and a force of wind cleared the table, sweeping the diary and notebooks off the surface. Jack and Lucy were pushed back by Erin's invisible energy, hitting the back of the couch. Erin raised her hands, maybe to strike, but felt her power evaporating. She looked at Jack, tears rolling down her cheeks, and then disappeared. Holiday Trimmings. Jack opened his eyes minutes before the alarm. It was Saturday and around ten. He sat up in his bed, his head still woozy from last night's drinking. He couldn't sleep and figured whiskey would knock him out. Also, he wanted to block out Erin's screams from replaying in his head. That face. Her expression dripping with anger and hurt. How Erin tried to attack them. He needed to say sorry. Erin probably won't believe him, Jack knew. But he had to try. Then there was what Lucy said, finding comfort so Erin can crossover. He hated thinking about that but realized that he couldn't be selfish. It wasn't about him. Jack's phone buzzed; he had gotten a text from his dad. It just said, 'Tree!'. Jack groaned, but he slipped out of the covers and took a shower. After getting dressed, Jack forced himself to eat something. He couldn't feel her. Usually, in December, he would see Erin more often than the rest of the year. Knowing that it was coming up to the day when she died, he expected to feel her. Two hours later, and overspending on a fir tree, Jack pulled into the driveway, confused. Lucy sat in front of the door, waiting for him. With a scared look on her face, she raised her hand and gave him a forced smile. Was she looking for him or for Erin? Jack climbed out of the car and slowly approached the young blonde. He never thought how she would take it, seeing Erin like that. After Erin faded away, Jack sat in silence while Lucy grabbed her stuff and bolted out of the house. "Hey," Jack muttered. "So, I have been waiting here for an hour. I walked away twice. But I really need to know. What the fuck did I see last night?" "I don't know," Jack said, looking away from Lucy's glare. "I've never seen her like this. She has never been this scary before. "Until;" "Until what?" Lucy stood up and got close. "You need to tell me." Jack sighed. "When you first came to the house, you tried to talk to her, right? Do you remember what happened next?" Lucy shook her head. "She took over your body and err; kissed me. We nearly had sex. But I stopped her. Telling her that it was wrong," Jack said, " to use your body like that." He quickly added. "Erin started shaking and going all Linda Blair. Then you woke up." "She gets rejected. Then she sees us on the couch, doing you-know-what, and takes it like a cheated-on girlfriend. That explains all the throwing." "I never knew she could do that." Jack smiled. "Can I ask you something?" Lucy stared into Jack's eyes. Jack shrugged and nodded his head. "What are you two? Is she your ghost girlfriend? Are you in love with her? What? Does she know what you are to her?" "Like I said, yesterday. Erin is my friend. Maybe there's more. I don't know, because I don't put labels on relationships with ghosts. But if I can help her, I will help her. Are you still in?" "Fuck it, yeah." He looked around, seeing his neighbors staring at him and Lucy. "Let's go inside. Can you give me a hand?" He asked, pointing to the tree. Lucy groaned but nodded her head. After undoing the bungee cords and dragging the tree off the car roof, the two of them awkwardly hauled the ten-foot fir inside the house. With Lucy leading, they pulled the tree into the living room, where the blonde suddenly stopped.  Jack was about to open his mouth, but he saw Erin standing in the middle of the room, and he went quiet. Erin raised her hands to her face, covering her eyes. Her breathing short and quick. She was freaking out. Erin then dropped her hands, clenching her fists as she glared at them. Her form floated to them, but unlike last night, there was no rush of force. Erin's face dropped, shifting into a scared expression. Dropping the tree, Lucy ran to her. She raised her hands up with open palms facing the spirit. "I am sorry. I am here to help you." She said, out loud. Erin didn't react. "He wants to help you. He wants to talk to you." Lucy pleaded with the spirit. Again, Erin stayed motionless. Lucy paused and looked over her shoulder at Jack. She mouthed 'trust me' at him and turned back to the ghost. "You can take over my body and speak to him. He would love that." Erin frowned, then faded into nothing. Jack walked past Lucy, trying to sense Erin's presence. There was nothing. He glanced at the medium; she had gone stiff, just like before. Jack's eyes bulged, realizing what was happening. But it was different. There was no sweat, no change in color, or fear on her face. Lucy just let out a small pleasurable moan. "Erin?" "What?" The woman barked back at him. "I just want to tell you that I am sorry. It was a mistake." "Liar. I saw you," Erin said, with no emotion in a unique tone. "Ye enjoyed every moment with the bonnie lass. I do not wish to intrude in your relationship with that adventuress." Her voice slowly morphed from Lucy's Mid-Atlantic accent to a faint Irish brogue. Jack sighed; he knew he had to deal with this. A simple apology wasn't going to be enough. "I'm so sorry about that. It's just that for a long time, there was this small voice in the back of my mind, saying that you weren't real and I was having a psychotic episode. When you saw me and Lucy, it was just an extension of that. I doubt it will ever happen again. But I did all this research so I can help you." "Help me?" "Yeah. I want to help you deal with whatever unfinished business you have. Lucy as well. That's why she's here. So, please don't be angry with her." "Unfinished business?" the voice then went quiet. She leaned in and kissed Jack on the cheek. Lucy's body went limp and she nearly collapsed. Jack reached out and slid his arms under her. He yelled out 'Erin'; then 'Lucy'; but got no answer. He dragged the unconscious blonde to the sofa. Carefully setting her down, Jack then prodded her cheek, trying to wake her up. She groaned and opened her eyes. "So, what are we going to do?" Lucy said immediately. Business Gets Busy. Jack looked at his phone as he walked through the front door. It was another email from his bosses in Boston. He had way too many people questioning his work. Being a cloud support engineer, he should be focused on the job. But since talking to Lucy about the s ance, Jack had been doing the bare minimum, and people were noticing. He figured that after he got closure with Erin, he could move on. Dumping the sage and wormwood on the coffee table, he saw her. Erin had been appearing more and more. Jack could actually count the times that she wasn't haunting the house. But he didn't get why; it was never this frequent back before. And she wasn't just haunting if you could call it, Jack's room. He had found her in the living room, kitchen and even the bathroom. Right now, Erin was floating near the Christmas tree. It was completely bare, left alone as Jack focused on work and the s ance preparations. There was some judgment he felt he was getting from Erin, like she still hadn't forgiven. Jack needed to remediate that, though he didn't really know how to regain trust with a ghost. He hunted for the Christmas decorations, taking longer than he hoped. Jack was desperate not to call his parents and deal with an endless conversation about how things were going in Springfield. Losing an hour to find them, Jack started decorating the tree, hoping that this will help him get back on Erin's good side. She carefully observed him as he decorated the tree, coating it in tinsel, lights and baubles. It appeared okay to Jack, the colors matched, and the string lights were all working. But looking at Erin, he was sure he had done something wrong. She wasn't that impressed. Jack first thought that she was still pissed at him, but then something hit him. While he saw her a lot during December, it was never on Christmas. This could be her first experience of Christmas in over a hundred years. With that, Jack opened his laptop and googled '19th century Christmas trees'. Getting an idea of what Christmas looked like in Erin's time, Jack grabbed his keys and told her that he will be back soon. Two hours later, Jack returned, and Erin looked like she was happy to see him. That's a positive sign, Jack said to himself as he emptied out his shopping bags. He bounced around a couple of stores before finding them, candle-like tree lights. Using real candles was a fire waiting to happen. And Jack didn't want to explain to his parents that he burnt the house down to impress a ghost. He then pulled out a ready-made popcorn and cranberry garland he got from a pop-up Christmas store. Looking at Erin, she approved by smiling back at him. He then added tinsel and icicle-like ornaments with Erin guiding him, pointing which branch needed something or if it was too much. Taking a step back, Jack admired his work. It looked old fashioned but still good. Seeing that Erin was happy was enough for him. He grabbed a beer from the kitchen and toasted, "That's one good-looking tree," he said, smiling at Erin. She rolled her eyes at him but then disappeared. That was getting Jack scared, her fading away just as they were bonding. It didn't look voluntary, like Erin really wanted to go to her void. She had this horrified look whenever it happened. Jack would then find her somewhere else in the house, an hour or two later. This time it was in the kitchen. He opened and closed the refrigerator door and found her there. Taking a moment to recover, Jack went back to making himself dinner. Erin hovered around him, curious at what he was doing. Jack guessed that she must have been shocked, that not many men cooked back in her time. He was also making pork chow-mein, and Jack wasn't sure how widespread Chinese food was in the 19th century. His phone began to buzz, and it was Lucy. Jack could see Erin's face turn. "She's probably asking about you," Jack said, putting his phone on speaker, "Hey Lucy." "Hey," she replied, "I got some news. We have to move the date of the s ance to the 12th. There's a full moon and it will go well with Hecate." "Hecate?" "Don't worry about it. Have you seen Erin since the other day?" Lucy asked, "Well, she is right here," Jack grinned at Erin, "She's in the room with me." "Whoa," she said, "How's that going? Wait shit, can she hear me?" Erin nodded. "Yeah." "Fuck. I mean shit. I mean I'm sorry," Lucy said, sounding like she was getting out of breath, "Anyway, I also need you to get some bundles of ash to burn. And candles, preferably black." "What is actually going to happen during the s ance?" "Hopefully, we can summon Erin properly and you guys can talk. Then maybe work out why is she here and if we can help her, somehow." Jack looked at Erin again. Her eyes were elsewhere. Jack started to doubt himself; was this something that she wanted him to do. "I will talk to you later, Lucy," Jack said, ending the call. Looking up from his phone, he saw that Erin had disappeared again. If the s ance actually works, Jack needed to ask where she goes whenever she vanishes. It didn't feel like a good place for her. Opening another beer, Jack sat down to eat and tried not to think about Erin. It was really hard. She still looked so sexy, and Jack was back replaying his eighteenth birthday present. Jack admitted to himself that with Erin randomly appearing in the house, he was feeling pent up.   Redhead Videos. It was close to two in the morning when Jack knew what he had to do. He had been rolling around his bed, got up twice and tried to dull his brain by checking the news on his phone. He still couldn't sleep. The only prescription that always worked for him was either whiskey or porn. As he couldn't be bothered to go all the way downstairs, Jack powered on his laptop and went straight to Porn. Jack checked out the video thumbnails, hovering over them as he tried to decide what he was in the mood for. Sometimes, he'd be craving blondes with double D-cups, getting plowed by massive cocks. Other times, it would be two lesbians slowly seducing each other. Milfs would be a good choice, but Jack felt that the algorithm would always then suggest stepmom porn, which he wasn't in to. He searched for amateur porn with Eastern Europeans, preferring their slender body shapes and lack of bad boob jobs. Jack sat up in his bed and pulled down his shorts, slowly stroking his cock to full, rigid life. He skipped the initial setup and forwarded it to the redhead pulling the guy's dick out. She grinned at the camera then kissed the man's purple head. Her tongue swirled around the tip before she quickly swallowed the man's cock. Jack shifted his weight as the redhead stripped off her top, revealing her decent-size tits. As the action turned to straight fucking with the twenty-something waitress bent over a park bench, Jack pumped his cock. He imagined himself there, in Prague, having hot, passionate sex in public. But then he felt cold. Looking up, there she was. Erin just appeared by the wall. She was confused and pressed the back of her head. It looked as if someone had just woken up, but in a different room than they were in before. She rolled her head around before stopping, and stared at Jack, her mouth agaip. He was illuminated by his laptop, so he knew that she could see what he was doing to himself. "Oh, fuck," Jack groaned, but he didn't stop stroking his cock. He thought she would float away, or scream, or do something, but Erin just stood there and watched. She even moved closer, standing at the edge of the bed. Her eyes focusing on his throbbing cock. Jack's heart was thumping as he frantically stroked his cock. His eyes darted back and forth from Erin to his laptop; the redhead had been replaced by a different model. She said that her name is Petra and is a med student, but what really turned Jack on was how Petra resembled Erin. Reddish-brown hair, slim body with perky tits, though she had tattoos and pierced nipples. His eyes bounced from Petra being fucked in a stall, to Erin's eager look. It was getting too much for him. His imagination then brought him to Prague again, but with Erin this time. He fucked her from behind, his cock pumping her hot, wet pussy, cupping her tits and making Erin groan in deep pleasure. Jack's balls were aching, then suddenly stopped, and he intensely climaxed. His tip exploded, and shot after shot of cum raced from his cock. Jack struggled to catch all his flying cum with a tissue. After cleaning himself, Jack and Erin exchanged looks. She was embarrassed, he could tell, staring at the ground and doing her most not to make eye contact. He wanted to say something, but Erin left the room. She didn't fade through the wall or vanish into anything, just walked away slowly. Jack then instantly fell asleep, not knowing what else to do.   A S ance. Jack opened the door, letting Lucy in. It was half two in the morning, and he was getting scared. A small sliver of thought wondered if she would let him down, or at least ask for $500 to proceed. For the s ance, Lucy had gone all gothic, wearing a black velvet dress and knee-high boots, also in black. She was carrying a large tote bag. There was panic in her eyes. She apologized for her lateness, saying that it took a while to get a cab. Jack was instructed by her, to get bundles of sage and wormwood for burning, plus ash. Lucy herself handled the weirder and harder to find items. She pulled out a knife that she called an athame, a ceremonial dagger Jack guessed. She also had a black bowl that she said is a water scry. It was going to help them talk to Erin. Jack led her to the kitchen and they quickly got ready. While she cut the sage and wormwood with the athame, speaking in Latin, Jack got the idea that this wasn't a con. It was real for her. That gave him hope. "So, where should we do this?" Jack asked, taking a steel bucket that she had handed him. "Your room." Lucy said, pulling more stuff out of her bag. "I've been thinking. You said you're the only one who saw her. And you normally see her in your bedroom, right? I think that's where she was murdered. By you sleeping there, a psychic link was created between you and Erin." Jack nodded. It made sense. They went to his bedroom; and with Lucy's help, he pushed his bed and everything else to one side, giving them space for the ritual. As they're going to make a fire, he opened the windows. Jack looked at the smoke alarms; if they go off, will his parents get an alert? Lucy got down on her knees and drew another circle on the floor, this time, a simple one without any other symbols. Jack lit the candles, twenty-four of them and placed them around the circle. Following her instructions, he then sat the bucket in the middle of the ring and lit the fire. Lucy took command of his bedside table and placed the porcelain bowl on top of it. She filled it with water from a special-looking bottle and dropped a crystal in it. "Take this and put it in the fire. Also, say her name in your head." Lucy said, handing him the sage and wormwood. Jack nodded and shuffled to the fire, trying not to drop the herbs. 'Erin, Erin, Erin,' he chanted in his head. He threw the herbs into the fire and was immediately overwhelmed by the aroma. It tasted sickly sweet, unnatural like. He then retreated behind Lucy; she was kneeling on the floor and speaking into the bowl. It sounded like Latin; Jack could make out the occasional word. She was calling out for Erin. The fire grew larger and smoke billowed from the bucket, looking like a volcano erupting. The smoke turned black, then blue and finally into grey. Jack took a step forward, in a trance, his mouth wide open and his hands trembling. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Lucy with her eyes clenched shut and was now calling Erin's name. Her fingers dug into the table and she frantically said 'Erin' over and over. He saw the smoke begin to clear and a body appeared above the fire. Jack gasped. Erin! She looked stunned, her hand covering her face. He opened his mouth but couldn't say a word, shocked. Color poured into her clothing, turning the transparent household dress into black. Her skin returned to its ivory color, while her hair became reddish-brown just as he saw ten years ago. Lucy had stopped chanting; she also was staring at Erin. She looked shocked, maybe a little scared. Lucy stood up and slowly shuffled towards Jack, resting a hand on his shoulder; but she kept her distance from Erin, using Jack as a possible human shield. Erin was just as surprised as the two of them. She reached out her arm, amazed by it. This was real. Erin moved forward but awkwardly stumbled as if she missed a step going downstairs. She then took a couple of more steps and touched the floor, a new sensation for her. Taking a deep breath, Erin became dazed with the menthol-like odor of burning sage. Her eyes lit up and a smile beamed from her face; she could smell. She then turned her head, focusing on the two, who had resurrected her. Her clogs banged against the wooden floor as she walked to Lucy. The psychic was trembling in her presence. Lucy flinched as she touched her arm. "Thank ye," Erin whispered. She then leaned in, and kissed the surprised blonde. Lucy moaned, instantly enjoying the kiss. Jack watched on, shocked. He didn't know if he should be terrified or turned on. Lucy wrapped her hands around Erin's waist and pushed herself against the resurrected maid. Overwhelmed by a sudden desire, Lucy slid her tongue deep into Erin's mouth. She felt good, but so tired. Erin then released the medium and watched as Lucy collapsed onto the floor in a deep sleep. She turned to Jack and grinned. "Erin?" Jack asked. His hands were trembling and he felt that he was going to sink into the floor. This is it, right? This was what he wanted, but he had no idea how to respond. "Is it really you?" He eventually spat out. "Hi, Jack," Erin smiled. "Fuck;" Jack said. He reached out and touched her hand with his. Wasn't this just supposed to be a s ance? "I can't believe I can touch you." "Me too," Erin said. "How are you?" Jack asked in a deeply sincere tone. "Confused. It felt I was being called by an unknown force. Then it took me." "I'm sorry, but I really wanted to talk to you." "I understand. Oh, it feels good to be heard and to speak with my own voice." "I need to tell you something," Jack said, "The reason we're talking is because I wanted to help you. But I never asked if you actually needed my help." She went quiet, looking like she was thinking something over, in her head. "You said about unfinished business. Bu

Tužiteljstvo u Milanu je trideset godina nakon završetka rata u Bosni i Hercegovini pokrenulo proces protiv osoba koje su navodno za vrijeme rata odlazile u Sarajevo kako bi tamo pucale po građanima opkoljenog grada. Čitava priča je u medijima dobila naziv "Sarajevo Safari"? Nenad Kreizer razgovara s Denisom Džidićem iz istraživačkog centra BIRN i reporterom Amirom Sužnjem o političkoj i pravosudnoj pozadini priče oko bogatih snajperista sa zapada. Von Nenad Kreizer.

Post-partita Genoa-Inter 1-2, 14 dicembre 2025. Gol Bisseck, gol Lautaro Martinez, gol Vitinha.

 Bridge Engineering: Part 1Two broken, single parents find healing.Based on a post by Architect 23 94, in 3 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Connected.And so it began. The start of another school year. I pulled my Jeep into the school grounds and took my place in the waiting drop-off lane. Children scurried about the school grounds with crisp back-to-school clothes and brightly colored backpacks not yet soiled and tattered from use. I winced internally as numerous mothers hugged their little ones, sent them into the building, and tearfully departed.My Elizabeth unfastened her seatbelt and eagerly fidgeted on the edge of the seat as we crept forward in line. Upon arrival at the designated unloading zone, Lizzie contorted herself over the center console and gave me a tight, all-consuming hug. "I love you Daddy!" she shouted as a volunteer parent opened the car door. And with that, she was gone in a flash. The volunteer and I just smiled at each other and shrugged our shoulders.In a repeat of years past, I drove away with a feeling of emptiness. Lizzie and I spent every minute of the summer together and I grew accustomed to her as my constant companion. It seemed like just yesterday that I dropped her off for the first day of preschool. Today it's third grade. How fast will the remaining years fly by before she leaves me all alone?I spent the day in a nearby coffee shop distractedly conducting business via email on my laptop. It wasn't rational, but somehow it felt better knowing I was only a couple minutes from the school, and from Lizzie. Time passed excruciatingly slow and I struggled to resist going to the school and being one of 'those' helicopter parents. Well, school ends at 2:50. I held out until 2:15.I was third in the line of vehicles waiting for pick-up and my eyes anxiously scanned the mass of children emerging from the school doors. It wasn't long before I spotted Lizzie joyfully skipping hand-in-hand with a girl I didn't recognize. She was rail thin, had a very lightly tanned skin tone, and towered above Lizzie. That wasn't too surprising since Lizzie took after her very petite mother and also barely made the birthday cutoff for her grade, but this girl was quite a bit taller than the average third grader.The girls zig-zagged as they skipped down the sidewalk with swinging arms and bouncing hair. Lizzie's straight and amber brown, her friend's a loose mass of dark curls. Lizzie spotted my Jeep and pointed it out to her friend. They hugged goodbye with Lizzie's arms around her friend's waist, and her friend's arms around Lizzie's head. I smiled at the height contrast and felt a sense of relief as Lizzie ran toward the Jeep.She climbed in and frantically began telling me everything about her day, a flood of words pouring from her mouth as if a damn holding them back had burst, "My teacher is Mrs. Pierpont and she is really nice and she has red hair. A boy named Alex sits next to me and he has shiny shoes. I had a hot dog for lunch and; and; and;”My heart felt comfort as she sat next to me and I heard the happiness in her voice. I needed her near me and to know that everything was ok.Lizzie had talked non-stop for 10 minutes and was still going as we headed toward home. The small-town streets gave way to a rural two-lane road as we headed out of town, and eventually the tires crunched along the gravel road leading to our house in the woods. It was the tranquil setting that I needed when Lizzie and I moved here 8 years ago."; and I met a new friend. Her name is Toni, well it's really Antonia, but she wants to be called Toni. Kind of like my name is Elizabeth, but you call me Lizzie. She is really nice and really tall. She has a pet frog."I interrupted to ask, "Is that who you were skipping with after school?""Yes, she in my class but she doesn't sit next to me. I met her when we were in line for lunch and we sat together. She brought a salad from home and bought a milk in the lunch line. She just moved here from somewhere else. Can I bring lunch from home tomorrow?"I patted her knee with my hand and said, "Of course, you can sweetie." as we parked in front of the house.It wasn't a large house but was plenty of space for the two of us. There was a great room, kitchen and half bathroom on the main level; two bedroom-bathroom suites and a loft space on the second level; and a semi-finished basement that I had been slowly working on for several years. It had all the modern technology and conveniences but was built with a rustic charm complementing its setting in the woods.We kicked our shoes off in the mudroom and Lizzie discarded her backpack into the coat cubby by the door. Lizzie, or more accurately, I, survived the first day of the school year. Only 179 more to go.Getting In A Rhythm.Lizzie and I settled into the school year rhythm over the next couple weeks and I began to slowly let go of my separation anxiety. Every day, I dropped her off at school, worked from home, then picked her up from school. Evenings were filled with homework, dinner preparation, and some form of relaxing time together. Lizzie particularly enjoyed walking in the woods and making up imaginary games with sticks, leaves, rocks, or other things she would find along the way. The grand finale of her outdoor adventures was always spending some time on a rope swing that I had hung from a tall oak tree. Other nights we might occupy ourselves with board games, cards, or television as the mood struck us. At the end of every night, Lizzie would get ready for bed then we would spend about a half-hour talking and reading a book of her choice before turning off the lights.I also noticed another pattern forming in those first few weeks of school. Lizzie was talking more and more about her new friend, Toni. They waited for each other to arrive in the mornings before going into the school together and would always emerge side-by-side in the afternoons. They were quickly becoming inseparable and I was happy to see her form that kind of relationship. Like me, Lizzie had always been socially reserved with only a few limited friendships.I saw her reserved personality opening up more and more with Toni, so one evening when Lizzie asked if she could invite her to play at our house, I readily agreed. I wrote my name and cell phone number on a note pad before tearing it out and handing it to Lizzie, "Ask her to have her parents call me and we will see if we can setup a time to play."Lizzie squealed and bounced up and down in excitement. She continued bouncing all the way to the mudroom and safely deposited the note in her backpack.Introductions.It was a couple days later, mid-morning on Thursday, that I answered a call from a number I didn't recognize. Thinking it was likely a business call, I answered, "Hello, this is David."A friendly but hesitant female voice replied, "Hi, I'm Stefani, Toni's mom.""Hi Stefani. It's nice to meet you, well, over the phone at least. Lizzie has been so excited to play with Toni!""Yes, I've heard a lot about Lizzie over the last couple weeks. Toni is excited too."I got down to details and asked, "When is Toni available?""Would Saturday afternoon, maybe around 1:00, work for you?""Yes, that would be just fine." Not knowing how many facts about our home life found its way to Toni's parents, I tried to be understanding of the fact that people can be cautious of sending their children, especially girls, to a single father's house. I tentatively asked, "Where would Toni be most comfortable? Lizzie would love for her to come here, or we are happy to meet at Triangle Park. Whatever works best for you."Stefani thought for a brief second, then replied, "Would you be comfortable dropping Lizzie off at our house for a couple hours?"I noticed that she said, "drop her off for a couple hours," which clearly meant I was not invited to stay. However, I didn't think much of it since a dad hanging around during a play date in someone else's house would be awkward at best."Yes, I'm sure Lizzie would enjoy that."Stefani gave me the address, then we exchanged closing words and ended the call. I sat and reflected on the conversation for a few moments. It all seemed very normal. Stefani seemed "normal" and was pleasant enough, though I sensed a business-like tone in her voice. I shrugged it off thinking, "How much can you tell from a 2-minute phone call?"Getting Together.I told Lizzie the news when I picked her up from school. She shrieked with excitement, did a little dance in her seat, and began counting the hours until 1:00 Saturday. She definitely got that over-enjoyment of simple things in life, and the dancing talent, from her mother!Saturday eventually arrived, although much too slowly for Lizzie's liking. After lunch, we hopped into the Jeep and rode into town with Lizzie impatiently fidgeting in the passenger seat the whole way. We pulled onto Depot Street near downtown and Lizzie helped me scan for the mailbox with the correct house number. I saw it from a distance and slowed down so she could have the discovery."There it is! There it is! 2 1 5!" she screamed.I brought the Jeep to a stop in front of a small, well-kept bungalow style home with an impressive display of annual flowers by the front steps. As soon as we stopped, Toni burst out the front door and bounded down the porch steps in a single leap. Likewise, Lizzie unfastened her seatbelt and threw open the door in one fluid motion. They met midway across the yard in a full speed, shrieking embrace.I smiled at their innocent joy as I unbuckled my seatbelt and walked around the Jeep toward the house. As I did, the front door opened and a tall, slender lady stepped out onto the porch in bare feet, wearing fashionably weathered blue jeans and a buff color corded sweater. She appeared to be in her early 30s and looked like the identical, older version of Toni. She was maybe around 5 foot 10, tall and had the same slender build, with addition of modest womanly curves at her hips and chest. Her chiseled facial features and shoulder length dark curls were also a matured version of Toni's.I approached the porch and offered a cheery "Hello! I'm David, nice to meet you."She crossed her arms and somewhat coldly replied, "Hi David," then with a voice inflection that implied more of an assertion than a question said, "Would it be ok for you to pick Lizzie up at 3:00?"I sensed the invisible barrier she was erecting and halted my progress toward the porch."Yes, that would be fine. I'll see you then."As I turned away to walk back to the Jeep, she flatly said, "Please don't be late."I didn't reply to her, but turned my attention to Lizzie and said loudly enough for my demander to hear, "Have fun girls! I'll be back Before 3:00 to pick you up Lizzie."While the lady on the porch didn't introduce herself, the voice matched Stefani's from our phone call a few days ago, and was equally business-like in demeanor. It's difficult to describe. She didn't project a mean or nasty personality that would have made me wary of leaving Lizzie, but she was definitely keeping her distance. The mystery of it piqued my curiosity and made me realize that, as much as Lizzie talked about Toni, she hadn't told me anything about her family.I ran a couple errands around town and returned to Lizzie's house at 2:50, ten minutes early. When I pulled up I saw numerous toys strewn across the front yard and heard playing voices and squeals coming from behind the house. Since I was early, I leisurely wandered the front yard picking up hula-hoops, jump ropes, a bicycle, and a few balls. As I deposited the last couple items into a neat pile next to the driveway, I heard Stefani's voice behind me softly say, "Thank you, you didn't need to do that."I turned to face her as she stood on the porch in the same jeans and sweater she had on earlier, "No worries. I was a little early and didn't want to intrude."With her arms crossed in front of her, Stefani somewhat timidly said, "Thank you for that too; for being early."Just then, the girls came running around the corner of the house screaming, "Spider! Spider! Spider!"I looked at Stefani, smiled and shrugged my shoulders. I corralled Lizzie and said, "It's time to go, is there anything you need to clean up?"Toni answered for her, "No, we just had toys out in the front yard. I'll put them in the garage."The girls pleaded for another play date as they hugged. Stefani simply answered, "We'll see."I gave a quick wave goodbye as Lizzie and I climbed in the Jeep and pulled away.Drop-offs and Pick-ups.Over the next few days, the pattern of school drop-offs and pick-ups with Lizzie and Toni as an inseparable pair continued, and Lizzie begged me relentlessly for another out-of-school play date with Toni. Given Stefani's tepid response at the end of the last play date, I was hesitant to initiate. However, Lizzie's continued insistence eventually wore me down and I made the phone call that Thursday.Stefani answered the phone with a simple, "Hello.""Hi Stefani. This is Lizzie's dad, David. How are you today?"She answered somewhat suspiciously, "I'm fine."After a second of not receiving any more of a response, I stumbled a bit with my words and added, "Uh, Lizzie would really like to get together with Toni again. I; I was just calling to see if you would be open to that."Stefani questioned sharply, "Why are you asking if I'm open to it?"I stumbled some more, "Uh; well; you sounded a little hesitant at the end of the last play date and; and I didn't want to be presumptuous about them getting together again."She coldly answered, "I'm fine with it.""Okay, good. It seems Lizzie and Toni are becoming fast friends."In an ever-so-slightly warmer tone of voice, Stefani asked, "When and where are you thinking?""How about Saturday afternoon again? Wherever you would prefer is fine with us.""Yes, that works. Saturday afternoon at 3:00. How about our house again?"I replied, "Sounds good. We'll see you then." before we exchanged goodbyes. I ended the cell phone call and loudly exhaled my relief that the awkward conversation was over.Building Friendships.The beginning of the second play date went much like the first; screaming girls happy to see each other, a cold reception from Stefani, and a firm directive to be there on-time to pick up Lizzie. It also ended similarly to the first play date. I arrived early, exchanged a few short words with Stefani, and gently guided Lizzie to the Jeep as the girls begged for more time together. This same routine became standard procedure over the next several weeks and a half dozen more play dates.The only change to the pattern occurred after the first few play dates, when Stefani and I began texting each other to make arrangements rather than talking on the phone. The texting suited me just fine as it avoided the awkwardness of our previous telephone conversations.Eventually, Lizzie started asking if Toni could come to our house to play. I avoided the subject as long as possible since I wasn't sure how Stefani would feel about Toni coming to a single father's house or, for that matter, even how much she knew about our family situation. After an especially persuasive appeal from Lizzie one afternoon, I caved and picked up my phone to text Stefani.I wasn't sure how to best approach the question and, after several re-writes, settled on a minimal and factual approach, "Hi Stefani. Lizzie would like to invite Toni over to our house for a play date."A couple hours later my phone buzzed with the simple reply, "Okay. When?"After a few exchanges of date options, we settled on that Thursday after school. Stefani offered to drop her off and I sent her our address.I told Lizzie the plan and she immediately began formulating a list of all the things they would do. The two activities that kept rising to the top were to show Toni her bedroom and play on a bridge that she and I had built over a small creek in the woods.It was a simple bridge made by spanning a couple logs from bank to bank, then covering them with old rough sawn slab wood for a walking surface that was about 6-feet wide. It wasn't much, but it was sufficient to occasionally get my small tractor to the other side of the creek and it was one of Lizzie's favorite spots in the world; running over it, throwing stones into the water, looking for crayfish, watching the squirrels and chipmunks, sliding on the frozen stream in the winter, etc. If the weather was nice, she would sometimes do her homework laying belly down on the bridge with her elbows propping up her upper body.It was also her spot of solace when she was sad or upset. She would sit on the edge swinging her feet below her until the surrounding woods healed whatever was bothering her. Eventually, she would meander her way back to the house in a much better mood than she left.She and I were a lot alike in that respect. It was the very reason I bought the property when we moved here, to get away from life and let nature heal some wounds.Inseparable.Lizzie was positively giddy during the ride home from school on Thursday. She recapped the list of things she had planned to show and do with Toni. I reminded her to be a good host and do the things that Toni wants to do, though I suspected that would easily be worked out between the now inseparable friends.As Lizzie shed her backpack and shoes in the mudroom, she asked, "Can we make chocolate chip cookies before Toni gets here?""Sure, I think we have all the ingredients. Start getting everything out."We had made cookies together enough that Lizzie knew where everything was located. She rushed around pulling ingredients, mixing bowls, and baking sheets out of the pantry. After confirming everything needed was present, Lizzie started measuring ingredients into the mixing bowl. I stood by to lend assistance when needed and occasionally clarify a fractional measurement or the difference between teaspoons and tablespoons.Other than a little incident with the flour, Lizzie did a great job mixing the cookie dough. Together, we spooned balls of dough onto baking sheets and put the first tray into the oven. Lizzie set the timer and I suggested she go clean the flour off her arms and face while they were baking.I cleaned errant flour from the countertop and floor while Lizzie washed up. Just as I finished and began to load the dirty bowls and mixing utensils into the dishwasher, the oven timer chimed and there was a knock at the front door almost simultaneously.Lizzie heard it and ran full speed to the door. I quickly dried my hands and hit the button to silenc

 Bridge Engineering: Part 1Two broken, single parents find healing.Based on a post by Architect 23 94, in 3 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Connected.And so it began. The start of another school year. I pulled my Jeep into the school grounds and took my place in the waiting drop-off lane. Children scurried about the school grounds with crisp back-to-school clothes and brightly colored backpacks not yet soiled and tattered from use. I winced internally as numerous mothers hugged their little ones, sent them into the building, and tearfully departed.My Elizabeth unfastened her seatbelt and eagerly fidgeted on the edge of the seat as we crept forward in line. Upon arrival at the designated unloading zone, Lizzie contorted herself over the center console and gave me a tight, all-consuming hug. "I love you Daddy!" she shouted as a volunteer parent opened the car door. And with that, she was gone in a flash. The volunteer and I just smiled at each other and shrugged our shoulders.In a repeat of years past, I drove away with a feeling of emptiness. Lizzie and I spent every minute of the summer together and I grew accustomed to her as my constant companion. It seemed like just yesterday that I dropped her off for the first day of preschool. Today it's third grade. How fast will the remaining years fly by before she leaves me all alone?I spent the day in a nearby coffee shop distractedly conducting business via email on my laptop. It wasn't rational, but somehow it felt better knowing I was only a couple minutes from the school, and from Lizzie. Time passed excruciatingly slow and I struggled to resist going to the school and being one of 'those' helicopter parents. Well, school ends at 2:50. I held out until 2:15.I was third in the line of vehicles waiting for pick-up and my eyes anxiously scanned the mass of children emerging from the school doors. It wasn't long before I spotted Lizzie joyfully skipping hand-in-hand with a girl I didn't recognize. She was rail thin, had a very lightly tanned skin tone, and towered above Lizzie. That wasn't too surprising since Lizzie took after her very petite mother and also barely made the birthday cutoff for her grade, but this girl was quite a bit taller than the average third grader.The girls zig-zagged as they skipped down the sidewalk with swinging arms and bouncing hair. Lizzie's straight and amber brown, her friend's a loose mass of dark curls. Lizzie spotted my Jeep and pointed it out to her friend. They hugged goodbye with Lizzie's arms around her friend's waist, and her friend's arms around Lizzie's head. I smiled at the height contrast and felt a sense of relief as Lizzie ran toward the Jeep.She climbed in and frantically began telling me everything about her day, a flood of words pouring from her mouth as if a damn holding them back had burst, "My teacher is Mrs. Pierpont and she is really nice and she has red hair. A boy named Alex sits next to me and he has shiny shoes. I had a hot dog for lunch and; and; and;”My heart felt comfort as she sat next to me and I heard the happiness in her voice. I needed her near me and to know that everything was ok.Lizzie had talked non-stop for 10 minutes and was still going as we headed toward home. The small-town streets gave way to a rural two-lane road as we headed out of town, and eventually the tires crunched along the gravel road leading to our house in the woods. It was the tranquil setting that I needed when Lizzie and I moved here 8 years ago."; and I met a new friend. Her name is Toni, well it's really Antonia, but she wants to be called Toni. Kind of like my name is Elizabeth, but you call me Lizzie. She is really nice and really tall. She has a pet frog."I interrupted to ask, "Is that who you were skipping with after school?""Yes, she in my class but she doesn't sit next to me. I met her when we were in line for lunch and we sat together. She brought a salad from home and bought a milk in the lunch line. She just moved here from somewhere else. Can I bring lunch from home tomorrow?"I patted her knee with my hand and said, "Of course, you can sweetie." as we parked in front of the house.It wasn't a large house but was plenty of space for the two of us. There was a great room, kitchen and half bathroom on the main level; two bedroom-bathroom suites and a loft space on the second level; and a semi-finished basement that I had been slowly working on for several years. It had all the modern technology and conveniences but was built with a rustic charm complementing its setting in the woods.We kicked our shoes off in the mudroom and Lizzie discarded her backpack into the coat cubby by the door. Lizzie, or more accurately, I, survived the first day of the school year. Only 179 more to go.Getting In A Rhythm.Lizzie and I settled into the school year rhythm over the next couple weeks and I began to slowly let go of my separation anxiety. Every day, I dropped her off at school, worked from home, then picked her up from school. Evenings were filled with homework, dinner preparation, and some form of relaxing time together. Lizzie particularly enjoyed walking in the woods and making up imaginary games with sticks, leaves, rocks, or other things she would find along the way. The grand finale of her outdoor adventures was always spending some time on a rope swing that I had hung from a tall oak tree. Other nights we might occupy ourselves with board games, cards, or television as the mood struck us. At the end of every night, Lizzie would get ready for bed then we would spend about a half-hour talking and reading a book of her choice before turning off the lights.I also noticed another pattern forming in those first few weeks of school. Lizzie was talking more and more about her new friend, Toni. They waited for each other to arrive in the mornings before going into the school together and would always emerge side-by-side in the afternoons. They were quickly becoming inseparable and I was happy to see her form that kind of relationship. Like me, Lizzie had always been socially reserved with only a few limited friendships.I saw her reserved personality opening up more and more with Toni, so one evening when Lizzie asked if she could invite her to play at our house, I readily agreed. I wrote my name and cell phone number on a note pad before tearing it out and handing it to Lizzie, "Ask her to have her parents call me and we will see if we can setup a time to play."Lizzie squealed and bounced up and down in excitement. She continued bouncing all the way to the mudroom and safely deposited the note in her backpack.Introductions.It was a couple days later, mid-morning on Thursday, that I answered a call from a number I didn't recognize. Thinking it was likely a business call, I answered, "Hello, this is David."A friendly but hesitant female voice replied, "Hi, I'm Stefani, Toni's mom.""Hi Stefani. It's nice to meet you, well, over the phone at least. Lizzie has been so excited to play with Toni!""Yes, I've heard a lot about Lizzie over the last couple weeks. Toni is excited too."I got down to details and asked, "When is Toni available?""Would Saturday afternoon, maybe around 1:00, work for you?""Yes, that would be just fine." Not knowing how many facts about our home life found its way to Toni's parents, I tried to be understanding of the fact that people can be cautious of sending their children, especially girls, to a single father's house. I tentatively asked, "Where would Toni be most comfortable? Lizzie would love for her to come here, or we are happy to meet at Triangle Park. Whatever works best for you."Stefani thought for a brief second, then replied, "Would you be comfortable dropping Lizzie off at our house for a couple hours?"I noticed that she said, "drop her off for a couple hours," which clearly meant I was not invited to stay. However, I didn't think much of it since a dad hanging around during a play date in someone else's house would be awkward at best."Yes, I'm sure Lizzie would enjoy that."Stefani gave me the address, then we exchanged closing words and ended the call. I sat and reflected on the conversation for a few moments. It all seemed very normal. Stefani seemed "normal" and was pleasant enough, though I sensed a business-like tone in her voice. I shrugged it off thinking, "How much can you tell from a 2-minute phone call?"Getting Together.I told Lizzie the news when I picked her up from school. She shrieked with excitement, did a little dance in her seat, and began counting the hours until 1:00 Saturday. She definitely got that over-enjoyment of simple things in life, and the dancing talent, from her mother!Saturday eventually arrived, although much too slowly for Lizzie's liking. After lunch, we hopped into the Jeep and rode into town with Lizzie impatiently fidgeting in the passenger seat the whole way. We pulled onto Depot Street near downtown and Lizzie helped me scan for the mailbox with the correct house number. I saw it from a distance and slowed down so she could have the discovery."There it is! There it is! 2 1 5!" she screamed.I brought the Jeep to a stop in front of a small, well-kept bungalow style home with an impressive display of annual flowers by the front steps. As soon as we stopped, Toni burst out the front door and bounded down the porch steps in a single leap. Likewise, Lizzie unfastened her seatbelt and threw open the door in one fluid motion. They met midway across the yard in a full speed, shrieking embrace.I smiled at their innocent joy as I unbuckled my seatbelt and walked around the Jeep toward the house. As I did, the front door opened and a tall, slender lady stepped out onto the porch in bare feet, wearing fashionably weathered blue jeans and a buff color corded sweater. She appeared to be in her early 30s and looked like the identical, older version of Toni. She was maybe around 5 foot 10, tall and had the same slender build, with addition of modest womanly curves at her hips and chest. Her chiseled facial features and shoulder length dark curls were also a matured version of Toni's.I approached the porch and offered a cheery "Hello! I'm David, nice to meet you."She crossed her arms and somewhat coldly replied, "Hi David," then with a voice inflection that implied more of an assertion than a question said, "Would it be ok for you to pick Lizzie up at 3:00?"I sensed the invisible barrier she was erecting and halted my progress toward the porch."Yes, that would be fine. I'll see you then."As I turned away to walk back to the Jeep, she flatly said, "Please don't be late."I didn't reply to her, but turned my attention to Lizzie and said loudly enough for my demander to hear, "Have fun girls! I'll be back Before 3:00 to pick you up Lizzie."While the lady on the porch didn't introduce herself, the voice matched Stefani's from our phone call a few days ago, and was equally business-like in demeanor. It's difficult to describe. She didn't project a mean or nasty personality that would have made me wary of leaving Lizzie, but she was definitely keeping her distance. The mystery of it piqued my curiosity and made me realize that, as much as Lizzie talked about Toni, she hadn't told me anything about her family.I ran a couple errands around town and returned to Lizzie's house at 2:50, ten minutes early. When I pulled up I saw numerous toys strewn across the front yard and heard playing voices and squeals coming from behind the house. Since I was early, I leisurely wandered the front yard picking up hula-hoops, jump ropes, a bicycle, and a few balls. As I deposited the last couple items into a neat pile next to the driveway, I heard Stefani's voice behind me softly say, "Thank you, you didn't need to do that."I turned to face her as she stood on the porch in the same jeans and sweater she had on earlier, "No worries. I was a little early and didn't want to intrude."With her arms crossed in front of her, Stefani somewhat timidly said, "Thank you for that too; for being early."Just then, the girls came running around the corner of the house screaming, "Spider! Spider! Spider!"I looked at Stefani, smiled and shrugged my shoulders. I corralled Lizzie and said, "It's time to go, is there anything you need to clean up?"Toni answered for her, "No, we just had toys out in the front yard. I'll put them in the garage."The girls pleaded for another play date as they hugged. Stefani simply answered, "We'll see."I gave a quick wave goodbye as Lizzie and I climbed in the Jeep and pulled away.Drop-offs and Pick-ups.Over the next few days, the pattern of school drop-offs and pick-ups with Lizzie and Toni as an inseparable pair continued, and Lizzie begged me relentlessly for another out-of-school play date with Toni. Given Stefani's tepid response at the end of the last play date, I was hesitant to initiate. However, Lizzie's continued insistence eventually wore me down and I made the phone call that Thursday.Stefani answered the phone with a simple, "Hello.""Hi Stefani. This is Lizzie's dad, David. How are you today?"She answered somewhat suspiciously, "I'm fine."After a second of not receiving any more of a response, I stumbled a bit with my words and added, "Uh, Lizzie would really like to get together with Toni again. I; I was just calling to see if you would be open to that."Stefani questioned sharply, "Why are you asking if I'm open to it?"I stumbled some more, "Uh; well; you sounded a little hesitant at the end of the last play date and; and I didn't want to be presumptuous about them getting together again."She coldly answered, "I'm fine with it.""Okay, good. It seems Lizzie and Toni are becoming fast friends."In an ever-so-slightly warmer tone of voice, Stefani asked, "When and where are you thinking?""How about Saturday afternoon again? Wherever you would prefer is fine with us.""Yes, that works. Saturday afternoon at 3:00. How about our house again?"I replied, "Sounds good. We'll see you then." before we exchanged goodbyes. I ended the cell phone call and loudly exhaled my relief that the awkward conversation was over.Building Friendships.The beginning of the second play date went much like the first; screaming girls happy to see each other, a cold reception from Stefani, and a firm directive to be there on-time to pick up Lizzie. It also ended similarly to the first play date. I arrived early, exchanged a few short words with Stefani, and gently guided Lizzie to the Jeep as the girls begged for more time together. This same routine became standard procedure over the next several weeks and a half dozen more play dates.The only change to the pattern occurred after the first few play dates, when Stefani and I began texting each other to make arrangements rather than talking on the phone. The texting suited me just fine as it avoided the awkwardness of our previous telephone conversations.Eventually, Lizzie started asking if Toni could come to our house to play. I avoided the subject as long as possible since I wasn't sure how Stefani would feel about Toni coming to a single father's house or, for that matter, even how much she knew about our family situation. After an especially persuasive appeal from Lizzie one afternoon, I caved and picked up my phone to text Stefani.I wasn't sure how to best approach the question and, after several re-writes, settled on a minimal and factual approach, "Hi Stefani. Lizzie would like to invite Toni over to our house for a play date."A couple hours later my phone buzzed with the simple reply, "Okay. When?"After a few exchanges of date options, we settled on that Thursday after school. Stefani offered to drop her off and I sent her our address.I told Lizzie the plan and she immediately began formulating a list of all the things they would do. The two activities that kept rising to the top were to show Toni her bedroom and play on a bridge that she and I had built over a small creek in the woods.It was a simple bridge made by spanning a couple logs from bank to bank, then covering them with old rough sawn slab wood for a walking surface that was about 6-feet wide. It wasn't much, but it was sufficient to occasionally get my small tractor to the other side of the creek and it was one of Lizzie's favorite spots in the world; running over it, throwing stones into the water, looking for crayfish, watching the squirrels and chipmunks, sliding on the frozen stream in the winter, etc. If the weather was nice, she would sometimes do her homework laying belly down on the bridge with her elbows propping up her upper body.It was also her spot of solace when she was sad or upset. She would sit on the edge swinging her feet below her until the surrounding woods healed whatever was bothering her. Eventually, she would meander her way back to the house in a much better mood than she left.She and I were a lot alike in that respect. It was the very reason I bought the property when we moved here, to get away from life and let nature heal some wounds.Inseparable.Lizzie was positively giddy during the ride home from school on Thursday. She recapped the list of things she had planned to show and do with Toni. I reminded her to be a good host and do the things that Toni wants to do, though I suspected that would easily be worked out between the now inseparable friends.As Lizzie shed her backpack and shoes in the mudroom, she asked, "Can we make chocolate chip cookies before Toni gets here?""Sure, I think we have all the ingredients. Start getting everything out."We had made cookies together enough that Lizzie knew where everything was located. She rushed around pulling ingredients, mixing bowls, and baking sheets out of the pantry. After confirming everything needed was present, Lizzie started measuring ingredients into the mixing bowl. I stood by to lend assistance when needed and occasionally clarify a fractional measurement or the difference between teaspoons and tablespoons.Other than a little incident with the flour, Lizzie did a great job mixing the cookie dough. Together, we spooned balls of dough onto baking sheets and put the first tray into the oven. Lizzie set the timer and I suggested she go clean the flour off her arms and face while they were baking.I cleaned errant flour from the countertop and floor while Lizzie washed up. Just as I finished and began to load the dirty bowls and mixing utensils into the dishwasher, the oven timer chimed and there was a knock at the front door almost simultaneously.Lizzie heard it and ran full speed to the door. I quickly dried my hands and hit the button to silenc

Get CRYPTID: The Creepy Card Battling Game https://cryptidcardgame.com/ Read our new wendigo horror novel https://eeriecast.com/lore Sign up for Eeriecast PLUS for bonus content and more https://eeriecast.com/plus SCARY STORIES TIMESTAMPS: 0:00 Intro 1:06 The Pale Ones - From - ConXIV14 20:00 A Cabin Encounter - From - Awkwardturd 32:53 How is this even possible - From - Anonymous 46:25 They were trying to hurt people - From - JustWanaFish Get our merch http://eeriecast.store/ Join my Discord! https://discord.gg/3YVN4twrD8 Follow the Unexplained Encounters podcast! https://pod.link/1152248491 Follow and review Tales from the Break Room on Spotify and Apple Podcasts! https://pod.link/1621075170 Follow us on Spotify! https://open.spotify.com/show/3mNZyXkaJPLwUwcjkz6Pv2 Follow and Review us on iTunes! https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/darkness-prevails-podcast-true-horror-stories/id1152248491 Submit Your Story Here: https://www.darkstories.org/ Subscribe on YouTube for More Stories! https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCh_VbMnoL4nuxX_3HYanJbA?sub_confirmation=1 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Thank you for tuning in to Bone Chilling Tales to Keep You Awake Podcast. Feel free to check out our sister podcasts, A Truly Haunted Podcast and True Whispers a True Crime Podcast. See you on the next dreadful episode. #scarystories #realstories #horrorpodcasts are #horrorpodcasts #horrorpodcast #horror #horrormovies #podcast #horrorfilms #horrorfilm #podcasts #horrormovie #film #films #movies #movie #horrorcommunity #horrorfamily #damnedmovies #moviesofthedamned #horrorobsessed #horrorfans #halloween #horrornerd #horrorfanatic #horrorpod #horrorfan #slasher #paranormal #horrorjunkie #horrorpodcaster #horrorgram #horrorcomedy #scarystories #scary #creepy #horrorstories #horror #scaryfacts #creepypasta #creepyfacts #creepystories #creepyfact #scaryfact #horrormovies #halloween #conspiracytheory #conspiracy #horrorstory #scarymovie #scaryposts #conspiracytheories #scarythreads #spooky #scaryvideo #horrorfacts #paranormal #horrorfan #horrors #scarymemes #haunted #horrorfact #ghost   Warning: This podcast may be: frightening · scaring · hair-raising · terrifying · petrifying · spine-chilling · bloodcurdling · chilling · horrifying · alarming · appalling · daunting · formidable · fearsome · nerve-racking · unnerving · eerie · sinisterBecome a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/bone-chilling-tales-to-keep-you-awake--4731503/support.

Greg Swinehart, the former drummer of the band the Pale Pacific, has performed with Fair and Rose Blossom Punch. In this episode, we explore Greg's life and music career as well as his journey into finding out what helping people really means.    If you like the Podcast, Subscribe! You can find us on all major Podcasting platforms at Welcome to the Scene Podcast. Instagram TikTok Youtube

SH'KOYEKH – LE YIDDISH VOUS PARLE, Émission présentée par Macha Fogel Elle reçoit la professeure Gabriella Safran, professeure de langues et littératures slaves à l'Université de Stanford (États-Unis). Ensemble, elles chercheront dans la culture yiddish des réponses à la question suivante : Qu'est-ce que parler et écouter veut dire ? À propos du livre : « Wandering Soul: The Dybbuk's Creator, S. An-sky » paru aux éditions Harvard University Press Shloyme-Zanvl Rappoport, known to the world as An-sky, was the author of The Dybbuk, the best known work of Yiddish/ Hebrew theater. During a tumultuous life, he left his mark on a dizzying array of political and cultural movements, Russian and Jewish, and seemingly crossing paths with just about every significant member of the radical intelligentsia of his time. Born in the Pale of Settlement in 1863, An-sky experimented with a variety of identities across virtually his entire adult life, from Jewish Enlightener to Russian Populist, writer, ethnographer, Zionist, and finally, Jewish communal relief worker during the cataclysms of the First World War. An-sky is a singularly interesting historical figure as he, like few others, encapsulates a crucial era of Jewish history - an era that marked the birth of modern Jewish politics and a modern, secular Jewish culture. Gabriella Safran est professeure de langues et littératures slaves à l'université de Stanford.

A thrilling tour of Earth that shows the search for extraterrestrial life starts in our own backyard.Is there life off Earth? Bound by the limitations of spaceflight, a growing number of astrobiologists investigate the question by studying life on our planet. Astronomer and author Jon Willis shows us how it's done, allowing readers to envision extraterrestrial landscapes by exploring their closest Earth analogs in The Pale Blue Data Point: An Earth-Based Perspective on the Search for Alien Life (U Chicago Press, 2025). With Willis, we dive into the Pacific Ocean from the submersible-equipped E/V Nautilus to ponder the uncharted seas of Saturn's and Jupiter's moons; search the Australian desert for some of Earth's oldest fossils and consider the prospects for a Martian fossil hunt; visit mountaintop observatories in Chile to search for the telltale twinkle of extrasolar planets; and eavesdrop on dolphins in the Bahamas to imagine alien minds.With investigations ranging from meteorite hunting to exoplanet detection, Willis conjures up alien worlds and unthought-of biological possibilities, speculating what life might look like on other planets by extrapolating from what we can see on Earth, our single “pale blue dot”—as Carl Sagan famously called it—or, in Willis's reframing, scientists' “pale blue data point.” Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/new-books-network

A thrilling tour of Earth that shows the search for extraterrestrial life starts in our own backyard.Is there life off Earth? Bound by the limitations of spaceflight, a growing number of astrobiologists investigate the question by studying life on our planet. Astronomer and author Jon Willis shows us how it's done, allowing readers to envision extraterrestrial landscapes by exploring their closest Earth analogs in The Pale Blue Data Point: An Earth-Based Perspective on the Search for Alien Life (U Chicago Press, 2025). With Willis, we dive into the Pacific Ocean from the submersible-equipped E/V Nautilus to ponder the uncharted seas of Saturn's and Jupiter's moons; search the Australian desert for some of Earth's oldest fossils and consider the prospects for a Martian fossil hunt; visit mountaintop observatories in Chile to search for the telltale twinkle of extrasolar planets; and eavesdrop on dolphins in the Bahamas to imagine alien minds.With investigations ranging from meteorite hunting to exoplanet detection, Willis conjures up alien worlds and unthought-of biological possibilities, speculating what life might look like on other planets by extrapolating from what we can see on Earth, our single “pale blue dot”—as Carl Sagan famously called it—or, in Willis's reframing, scientists' “pale blue data point.” Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/science

A thrilling tour of Earth that shows the search for extraterrestrial life starts in our own backyard.Is there life off Earth? Bound by the limitations of spaceflight, a growing number of astrobiologists investigate the question by studying life on our planet. Astronomer and author Jon Willis shows us how it's done, allowing readers to envision extraterrestrial landscapes by exploring their closest Earth analogs in The Pale Blue Data Point: An Earth-Based Perspective on the Search for Alien Life (U Chicago Press, 2025). With Willis, we dive into the Pacific Ocean from the submersible-equipped E/V Nautilus to ponder the uncharted seas of Saturn's and Jupiter's moons; search the Australian desert for some of Earth's oldest fossils and consider the prospects for a Martian fossil hunt; visit mountaintop observatories in Chile to search for the telltale twinkle of extrasolar planets; and eavesdrop on dolphins in the Bahamas to imagine alien minds.With investigations ranging from meteorite hunting to exoplanet detection, Willis conjures up alien worlds and unthought-of biological possibilities, speculating what life might look like on other planets by extrapolating from what we can see on Earth, our single “pale blue dot”—as Carl Sagan famously called it—or, in Willis's reframing, scientists' “pale blue data point.” Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

A thrilling tour of Earth that shows the search for extraterrestrial life starts in our own backyard.Is there life off Earth? Bound by the limitations of spaceflight, a growing number of astrobiologists investigate the question by studying life on our planet. Astronomer and author Jon Willis shows us how it's done, allowing readers to envision extraterrestrial landscapes by exploring their closest Earth analogs in The Pale Blue Data Point: An Earth-Based Perspective on the Search for Alien Life (U Chicago Press, 2025). With Willis, we dive into the Pacific Ocean from the submersible-equipped E/V Nautilus to ponder the uncharted seas of Saturn's and Jupiter's moons; search the Australian desert for some of Earth's oldest fossils and consider the prospects for a Martian fossil hunt; visit mountaintop observatories in Chile to search for the telltale twinkle of extrasolar planets; and eavesdrop on dolphins in the Bahamas to imagine alien minds.With investigations ranging from meteorite hunting to exoplanet detection, Willis conjures up alien worlds and unthought-of biological possibilities, speculating what life might look like on other planets by extrapolating from what we can see on Earth, our single “pale blue dot”—as Carl Sagan famously called it—or, in Willis's reframing, scientists' “pale blue data point.” Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/popular-culture

This week we look into a semi-humanoid, slack-looking cryptid that's been sporadically popping up on cameras around the world. These bizarre beings resemble walking pants. Pale, stick-like legs with tiny heads, no arms, and an unsettling waddle that's both creepy and...odd. Grab a limited edition Fresno Nightcrawler shirt. Want more? Join the Frightday Society, at http://thefrightdaysociety.org As a Society Member, you'll have access to all Screamium content (Behind the Screams, It's Been a Weird Week, A Conversation With..., Toast to Toast PM with Wine Kelly, Cinema Autopsy, the Writers' Room, bonus episodes of Captain Kelly's Cryptids & Conspiracies, Byron's Serial Corner, and so much more! You'll also be part of our interactive community dedicated to the advancement of horror, hauntings, cryptids, conspiracies, aliens, and true crime. All things frightening. Keep our mini-fridges full of blood...I mean...not blood...normal things that people drink...by going to http://shop.frightday.com Theme music by Yawns Produced by Byron McKoy Follow us in the shadows at the following places:  @byronmckoy @kellyfrightday @frightday This is an Audio Wool Original.

This week Dan is on Vacation. The other guys talk about the history of the Pale Night. An ancient power who ruled the Abyss long before the current Demon Lords. What is she and how has she maintained power in the Abyss for so long?

If you think Mount Vesuvius is scary, wait until you hear about Campi Flegrei! This supervolcano has 24 underground craters and makes Vesuvius look small in comparison. The crazy part? Half a million people live right in the danger zone today! Even though it hasn't erupted in 500 years, scientists have noticed it's getting more active lately. With over 1,000 small tremors happening each month, people are starting to pay attention. If Campi Flegrei blows, it could be a major disaster! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

My cheating wife's face went pale, and she screamed. Her lover turned, saw me, and stumbled to his.Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/true-cheating-wives-and-girlfriends-stories-2025-true-cheating-stories-podcast--5689182/support.

My cheating wife's face went pale, and she screamed. Her lover turned, saw me, and stumbled to his.Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/true-cheating-wives-and-girlfriends-stories-2025-true-cheating-stories-podcast--5689182/support.

U 214. epizodi Njuz Podkasta ulazimo u "Ćacilend" – analiziramo atmosferu straha i apsurda koja je obeležila Srbiju. Nakon što je Dijana Hrka prekinula štrajk glađu, osvrćemo se na brutalnost policije u Novom Sadu, gde su mete postali čak i maloletnici. Zašto je zlo u Srbiji postalo toliko patetično? Dok nam prete američke sankcije zbog NIS-a, a ministarka energetike paniči, Vučić i Siniša Mali igraju igru "dobrog i lošeg policajca". Mi imamo bolje rešenje – otkrivamo ekskluzivni plan kako da Njuz.net kupi Naftnu industriju Srbije i reši krizu sa benzinom jednom za svagda. Takođe, komentarišemo kako je Milan Antonijević postao SNS kandidat i sahranio mit o "menjanju sistema iznutra".

Music and collabs are in the very blood of Athletic Brewing, so it was an easy partnership for Althetic and The Warpped Tour to collab on a Hoppy Pale Ale called Side Stage. Bright citrus flavors with a hint of citrus and tropical hop flavors all balanced with a clean finish will have you asking your self, "are you sure this is a NA beer?"

This week, Alexis tells Grace about a dog napping, a spooky shaman, and not getting your scooter back. Episode: Decoy for a Dognapper | Scooby Doo, Where Are You? | Season 1 | Episode 4 | 1969 | Hanna BarberaFollow SMM on Instagram: @satmornmyst Subscribe wherever you're listening so you never miss an episode! Email us your show requests: saturdaymorningmysteries@gmail.com Check us out on YouTube: https://tinyurl.com/satmornmyst Music: Avis Akekee, https://avisakekee.bandcamp.com/

durée : 00:05:01 - C'est une chanson - par : Frédéric Pommier - Avec les médecins Cloé Brami et Violaine Forissier, il vient de publier "Vivre avec vivre après" (ed. L'iconoclaste). Au micro de Frédéric Pommier, le psychiatre et psychothérapeute Christophe André témoigne de son affection pour la chanson "A Whiter Shade of Pale" du groupe anglais Procol Harum. Vous aimez ce podcast ? Pour écouter tous les autres épisodes sans limite, rendez-vous sur Radio France.

The door to her parents' bedroom was always closed. That night, it wasn't. She was only eight or nine when she woke up hungry in the middle of the night. As she made her way toward the kitchen, she noticed something strange—their bedroom door was wide open. Inside stood a woman she'd never seen before. Pale skin, white hair, eyes sunk deep into shadow, and a flowing white dress that shimmered like fog in moonlight. The woman turned and looked straight at her. She didn't scream. She didn't run. She just fell—the world going dark in an instant. She'd never fainted before, and she's never fainted since. But something changed after that night. Ever since the encounter, she's lost pieces of time—thirty minutes, sometimes whole hours, simply gone. She's searched for answers, tried to rationalize it, but everything leads back to the same memory: the open door, the woman in white, and that impossible, hollow stare. #RealGhostStories #WhiteLady #HauntedNorthCarolina #TimeSlip #ParanormalEncounter #Supernatural #TrueGhostStory #GhostlyApparition #MissingTime #HauntedChildhood #CreepyStories #BeyondTheGrave Love real ghost stories? Don't just listen—join us on YouTube and be part of the largest community of real paranormal encounters anywhere. Subscribe now and never miss a chilling new story:

Click Here to Text us. Yes really, you totally can.Click Here to Text us. Yes really, you totally can.The boys are back again with a HOT FULL EPISODE, where we talk about...Guess WhatGuy accidentally gets all his co-worker's pay...is not very honest about it!Can't put down your phone? PUMP THOSE MUSCLES INSTEAD.Oreo's is committing war crimes again.Even WeirderKangaroo flexes on all of usWhat do YOU believe in??Yet another UFO sightingA Pocong attacks!Beyond The PaleIt's all about BLOBS on this week's Beyond the Pale! Crawling blobs, floating blobs, we got it all! Mike's sources:Source 1Source 2Source 3Source 4Source 5Whatcha Wanna Talk About?The boys play a game of POKEMON or MEDICATION. It's much harder than you think.Check Out Our Website!Join our Discord!Check out our Merch Store HERE!Follow us @theneatcast on TikTok!Follow us @neatcastpod on BlueskyFollow us @neatcastpod on Twitter!Follow us @neatcastpod on Instagram!Follow us @theneatcast on Facebook!

Oder doch lieber nicht? Henning und Till sprechen über den Mann im Spiegel…über den zurzeit alle sprechen. Und warum man lieber einen großen Bogen um Löcher machen sollte – denn man weiß nie, was da unten auf einen lauert…und seien es nur die eigenen Abgründe. Da sagen wir doch: leave me alone! Die Songs der Sendung: 1) Roadhouse Blues / The Doors2) The hole / Townes Van Zandt3) She belongs to me / Bob Dylan4) Leave me alone / H-Blockx5) Mann im Spiegel / Haftbefehl6) End it / Pale horse7) Turnstile / Blackout8) Freak dreams / Slope Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Theme: Judgment, Obedience, and the Centrality of God Pastor Matthew's study covered Zechariah chapters 6–7, drawing parallels between Zechariah's visions, the rebuilding of Jerusalem, and God's eternal plan through Christ. The lesson highlighted how obedience, humility, and keeping God at the center are essential for both spiritual and national restoration. Context and Background Zechariah ministered during the time when Israelites were returning from Babylonian exile to rebuild the temple and the walls of Jerusalem. Nehemiah oversaw the wall; Zechariah encouraged the people spiritually. The prophet's visions often had dual meaning—addressing the present rebuilding work while also pointing forward to the coming Messiah and end-time judgment. Vision of the Four Chariots — Zechariah 6:1-8 Zechariah saw four chariots coming from between two mountains of bronze, symbolizing God's judgment. The red, black, white, and dappled horses represent divine forces sent throughout the earth—similar to the four horsemen in Revelation 6. Pastor Matthew explained the parallels: Red horse – war and conflict Black horse – famine and economic imbalance White horse – deception (often representing the Antichrist's early false peace) Pale horse – death and destruction The vision shows that God rules over all nations, directing both natural and spiritual forces to fulfill His plans. Application: Every believer will face judgment—not for salvation, which is secured in Christ—but for stewardship and obedience. “Think of judgment not as punishment,” Pastor said, “but as whether we've disappointed the One who's given us everything.” Spiritual Reality: The Host of Heaven Zechariah's vision reveals an unseen world—“the spirits of heaven”—at work on God's behalf. Pastor connected this to Jacob's vision at Mahanaim (“two hosts”) and Jesus' words about angels ascending and descending on the Son of Man. Believers are surrounded by heavenly hosts and benefit from their ministry, but only “in Christ”—our access point between heaven and earth. The Crowning of Joshua the High Priest — Zechariah 6:9-15 God commands the making of an elaborate crown to be set on Joshua the high priest, symbolizing restoration. Joshua foreshadows Christ, the true High Priest, called “the Branch”, who will build the spiritual temple of the Lord and reign as both King and Priest. Pastor explained that this prefigures Jesus as the eternal priest “after the order of Melchizedek,” whose covenant was established before the foundation of the world. Core truth: “As long as God stays at the center, everything else—children, crops, work—will be blessed. But when people place themselves in the center, things fall apart.” Obedience as the Condition for Blessing Zechariah 6:15 ends with a key phrase: “This shall come to pass if you diligently obey the voice of the Lord your God.” Pastor emphasized that: God's promises are certain, but our participation in them depends on obedience. Failure doesn't cancel grace—repentance restores relationship. David was contrasted with Saul: both sinned, but David repented, while Saul disregarded God's word and lost his kingdom. Willful disobedience—knowing God's command and ignoring it—invites discipline and loss. Practical Lessons — Zechariah 7 By Chapter 7, the teaching turned practical: People asked if they should continue fasting as before. God responded: “Did you fast for Me—or for yourselves?” Their rituals had become hollow habits. God desires obedience and sincerity over religious performance. Pastor quoted Samuel's reminder: “To obey is better than sacrifice.” The Heart of True Religion Zechariah 7:9–10 commands: “Execute true justice, show mercy and compassion, do not oppress the widow or the fatherless, the alien or the poor, and let none of you plan evil against his brother.” Pastor expanded: When in doubt—have mercy, because “you're going to need it too.” God's longsuffering exceeds anything we could show others. Examples included the conversion of an abortion doctor and Joyce Meyer forgiving and caring for her abusive father—proof of the gospel's transforming power. True love does not ignore truth: “You don't have to compromise truth to love people; real love tells the truth.” The Danger of Refusal Israel's ancestors “stopped their ears” and “made their hearts like flint”, rejecting God's word. Pastor warned that when people repeatedly ignore God, He eventually allows them to experience the consequences of their choices. Cross-references included Proverbs 1:20–33 and 2 Thessalonians 2:10–12, showing how those who reject truth can fall into strong delusion. He cautioned America to heed this warning: “Our greatest danger isn't military or economic—it's turning our backs on God and Israel.” Closing Reflection God's mercy and truth work together. The goal is not religious performance but a surrendered, obedient life centered on God. The nation of Israel was restored through obedience; the same principle governs believers and nations today. Pastor closed in prayer, thanking God for His Word and declaring: “We love truth—even when it rebukes or corrects us—because the Spirit and the Word agree.” Core Takeaways Judgment is real, but so is grace. God must remain the center—life flourishes when we revolve around Him. Obedience outweighs ritual. Mercy triumphs over judgment. Truth without love is harsh; love without truth is hollow. A nation or believer that hardens its heart toward God risks losing His blessing.

J&M Sports 101 Podcast | S6E11Yamal mete chale lan LDC a Eske Liverppol gen lot pwoblem Eske Arsenal ap bon ane a?Xabi pran premye klasiko li pa rate gwo deba sa ke J&M Media Groupe pote pou ou, Like comment e pataje (share) ak tout zanmiw

It started like so many hauntings do — with a whisper in the dark. Fourteen-year-old Natasha thought it was just her little sister asking a question: “Want to play with me?” But when she turned, it wasn't her sister standing there — it was Jessy. Pale, with uneven bangs and a strange, knowing smile. A little girl who shouldn't have been there… because Jessy wasn't alive. This is the terrifying true story of a young girl who encountered what she first believed to be a harmless child spirit — only to discover that even the smallest ghosts can leave the deepest scars. Jessy didn't scream. She didn't throw things. She appeared quietly, curiously… until one night, everything changed. Was it jealousy? Possessiveness? Something darker? Natasha still doesn't know. But the handprint was real. And so was the fear. This haunting story explores themes of sibling rivalry, maternal intuition, and the terrifying unpredictability of unseen forces. It's not just about ghosts — it's about the moment you realize you are no longer alone, and maybe never were. Because sometimes, the dead really do want to play. #TrueGhostStory #HauntedHouse #ParanormalActivity #RealHaunting #CreepyStories #GhostEncounter #JessyTheGhost #ScaryStoryTime #RealGhostStoriesOnline Love real ghost stories? Don't just listen—join us on YouTube and be part of the largest community of real paranormal encounters anywhere. Subscribe now and never miss a chilling new story:

BCC Episode #348 | Zombie Bigfoots Cryptid Crypt Week 4! It's L-Files form the Crypt a Michael and RIley read some startling new listener stories about ufos and haunted houses! Plus what are the spookiest places on Earth? And… was a man attacked by a Carolina Pale Walker? It's a BCC “BOOS” segment you'll never forget. Carolina Pale Walker 911 Call Pale Walker History BCC Merch Shop Peacedrone.net This Episode is Brought to You By… Miracle Made - Upgrade your sleep with Miracle Made! Go to https://trymiracle.com/BCC and use the code BCC to claim your FREE 3 PIECE TOWEL SET and SAVE over 40% OFF. – SHOW INFORMATION Bigfoot Collectors Club is produced by Riley Bray and Michael McMillian YouTube Channel Listener-Files Submissions: BigfootCollectorsClub@gmail.com. Instagram: https://bit.ly/3W7izlL | Blue Sky: https://bsky.app/profile/bccpodcast.bsky.social Our theme song is “Come Alone,” by Suneaters, courtesy of Lotuspool Records. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

It started like so many hauntings do — with a whisper in the dark. Fourteen-year-old Natasha thought it was just her little sister asking a question: “Want to play with me?” But when she turned, it wasn't her sister standing there — it was Jessy. Pale, with uneven bangs and a strange, knowing smile. A little girl who shouldn't have been there… because Jessy wasn't alive. This is the terrifying true story of a young girl who encountered what she first believed to be a harmless child spirit — only to discover that even the smallest ghosts can leave the deepest scars. Jessy didn't scream. She didn't throw things. She appeared quietly, curiously… until one night, everything changed. Was it jealousy? Possessiveness? Something darker? Natasha still doesn't know. But the handprint was real. And so was the fear. This haunting story explores themes of sibling rivalry, maternal intuition, and the terrifying unpredictability of unseen forces. It's not just about ghosts — it's about the moment you realize you are no longer alone, and maybe never were. Because sometimes, the dead really do want to play. #TrueGhostStory #HauntedHouse #ParanormalActivity #RealHaunting #CreepyStories #GhostEncounter #JessyTheGhost #ScaryStoryTime #RealGhostStoriesOnline Love real ghost stories? Don't just listen—join us on YouTube and be part of the largest community of real paranormal encounters anywhere. Subscribe now and never miss a chilling new story:

RB Ham is a Canadian political commentator, activist and former candidate for office under the People's party. He was part of the freedom movement/Trucker protest 4 years ago. He is currently the host of the "Beyond the Pale" podcast. 02:00 - His run for the people's party in Canada, inspired by lockdowns and censorship, the Chronology of the Canadian trucker's protest, obstacles of a smaller party 22:22 - The domination of the two-party system, Carney's path to the presidency 48:18 - politicians are NOT our heroes, How Trump became "Teflon Don," are restrictions a test phase for limits for authoritarianism? Plus, how far are we going to take foreign intervention? If we already know it's up/down, then why are we fighting harder on left/right? 59:26 - Back to the "Freedom protest," the disagreement with mandates, and the consequences of free speech, the problem is up/down, billionaires and the rest of us, understanding acute narcissistic disorder 1:19:01 - Orwell, HG Wells, and the books that saw a lot of this coming, Shogun being great read AND series/movie, the interesting journey of Jesse Ventura 1:30:40 - The powerful tool of forgiveness, and speaking up for people who cannot help themselves, also, politicians are not heroes and vote for your agenda, not the party agenda 1:50:11 - Does Trump's ego "Trump" the right thing? Plus, a story about Jimmy Dore (NOTE: There is a possibility the story did not involve him - to the best of my memory, people around us identified him as "Jimmy", conspiracies, and the right to reject or accept them based on historical behavior 2:03:12 - Why we "love" Peter Hotez

 After the terrible discovery high in the mountains, Sheriff Flynn reflects on his past. Dr. Cooper travels to examine a fellow veteran from the Great War, one who bears deep scars, both physical and emotional. Later on, at the town's Winter Carnival, Hattie overhears some disturbing information regarding the deaths of some local men. Additional Voices by David Broshar and Strother Stingley Listener discretion advised If you are enjoying the show, please consider leaving us a rating and review to help us grow. For more information about the production and creative team, visit superhappyproductions.com.

The Today in Manufacturing Podcast is brought to you by the editors of Manufacturing.net and Industrial Equipment News (IEN).This week's episode is brought to you by Redzone. In this exclusive video, Claremont Foods discusses some of the exciting ways in which manufacturers are leveraging the latest tools to make productivity gains. Watch Claremont Foods Shares the Secret to OEE, right now.Every week, we cover the five biggest stories in manufacturing, and the implications they have on the industry moving forward. This week:- BlueOval Accused of Making Employees Work Off the Clock- If Trump's America First Program Works, Where Will We Get the Workers?- Thieves Steal $1M Worth in Craft Whiskey from Washington Distillery- 50-Year-Old Skateboarding Legend Hits 65 MPH as He Flies Down 22-Story Building- Fatal Workplace Incident: Robotic Machine Crushes ManagerIn Case You Missed It- Police Pulled Over a Self-Driving Waymo But Had No One to Ticket- Lufthansa to Replace 4,000 Jobs Using AI, Digitalization- Engineers Make a Working Parachute Cut from a Sheet of Plastic 

Los mal llamados "Clásicos" arrastran la pesada carga de haber durado más de lo que se esperaba y ser la música de las "Grandes Ocasiones” pero, sobre todo, de haber caído en manos de una “élite” envarada, rancia y empingorotada con frecuencia.Se olvida que hunden sus raíces en una civilización avanzada que construye un sofisticado lenguaje de cuyas costuras escapan canciones, melodias y armonías sublimes. Desde las bodegas de Bach, "Whiter Shade of Pale" de Gary Brooker, desde las de Chopin, "Jane B” de Gainsbourgh o desde las del Maestro Rodrigo "Aranjuez mon amour”. Quizás a muchos sorprenda saber que Elvis abría sus conciertos con Strauss y los cerraba con "Can t Help Falling in Love”, inspirada por “Plaisir d amour" de JP Egide (XVIII)."Roll over Beethoven” cantaba Chuck Berry a la llegada del Rock. No tan deprisa, amiguito.

J&M Sports 101 Podcast | S6E7Papa Yamal pale de ballon d'or lan anpil Haitien tap vote sou emosyon lan ballon d'or lan ou Liverpool back to back defet Real pran bwa kale lan main ATM rate gwo deba sa ke J&M Media Groupe pote pou ou, Like comment e pataje (share) ak tout zanmiw

(00:00-33:38) Sometimes when you fail you can fail upwards. Jackson is the Alex Smith of sports talk radio. Where's Tim is the theme of the day. Questions for Joey. Why is Joey misbehaving? Elite culture. Can you offend yourself? Audio of Mike Shildt on the questionable strike three call in the 9th. Roboumps. Rick Pitino. Slowly rotting. Doug has multiple Emmy's. Dotem changed the game at St. Louis Magazine.(33:46-53:01) Good final tune up for The Note last night. Michael Jordan conspiracies. Audio of Mike Shildt talking about the disappointing series loss to the Cubs. Hey slugga, can I get a quote? Rounding the bases with Hank Aaron. Doug's rooting for the Cubs. We need a St. Louis version of "Go Cubs Go." Cubby Bob and Hockey Bob. Benedict Vaughn.(53:11-1:07:35) My girl, Bill. I've seen the Ice Storm. Audio of Drink on Wake Up Barstool talking about the college football playoff. Is the money gonna dry up if fans and boosters don't feel like they're getting a return? Audio of Drink talking about being 5-0 and the tough schedule ahead. The landscape of NIL and the transfer portal.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Tom is a fascinating man. He's shot lasers at the moon and measured their reflection. After studying astrophysics at Cal Tech he taught at UCSD for years. But there came a point where his awareness of the destructiveness of the machine made it impossible to keep making adjustments to its smooth functioning. Unlike many people confronted with that contradiction, Tom walked away, choosing freedom of thought over financial stability and ego gratification. This is the first part of what I hope will be an on-going conversation. Part two is coming next week.You can read Tom's thoughts at his newsletter, called Do the Math.Here's a taste of our conversation. If you prefer to see/hear the whole thing, here's a link to the full video.Intro music “Brightside of the Sun,” by Basin and Range. “Whiter Shade of Pale,” performed by Steve Winwood and Carlos Santana. Outro: “Smoke Alarm,” by Carsie Blanton.If you buy from Amazon, my link is here. (You can click on it once, then bookmark that as your go-to Amazon link so it'll always work.)Buy some merch from my mom here.Find other Tangentialistas around the world! This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit chrisryan.substack.com/subscribe

She was just a sweet, kind-hearted old landlady who couldn't keep her nose out of other people's business. This was very unfortunate for Mr. Thobal. The Man Who Was Pale by Jack Sharkey. That's next on The Lost Sci-Fi Podcast.Let's step back in time to December 1959, when Fantastic Science Fiction Stories delivered eerie, unforgettable tales. On page 78, Jack Sharkey delivers an atmosphere of dread that creeps in quietly and refuses to let go, reminding readers why the pulp era was a golden age of unsettling imagination, The Man Who Was Pale by Jack Sharkey…Next on The Lost Sci-Fi Podcast, On a still night under a rising golden moon, a man begins to reveal the strange vision that has haunted him since childhood. What follows is a chilling account of a life he only lives in dreams. The Dream Snake by Robert E. Howard.Survey - https://podcastsurvey.typeform.com/to/gNLcxQlkRise - http://bit.ly/45So7Yr☕ Buy Me a Coffee https://www.buymeacoffee.com/scottsVDiscord - https://discord.gg/EXrY7UHT

Oh what a feeling, a mouse in the ceiling. Helpful hardware person. Cheating stoners. Thickened Beverage Plant. How Many Flushes. Why Do We Have a Mint Drawer? Hardware Person? Just Call Them a Tool! Law Offices of Naked, Sweaty, Pale, and Erratic. This Soap is Too Sharp. Built In Playtesters. Don't Touch The Green Ones. Was there a movie about baseball dreams in a field called something 'of Dreams'? Hot & Heavy then Toothpaste, with Amy. I don't like vampires who are les...BEEEEEEEEN! Permanent Sticky and more on this episode of The Morning Stream. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Oh what a feeling, a mouse in the ceiling. Helpful hardware person. Cheating stoners. Thickened Beverage Plant. How Many Flushes. Why Do We Have a Mint Drawer? Hardware Person? Just Call Them a Tool! Law Offices of Naked, Sweaty, Pale, and Erratic. This Soap is Too Sharp. Built In Playtesters. Don't Touch The Green Ones. Was there a movie about baseball dreams in a field called something 'of Dreams'? Hot & Heavy then Toothpaste, with Amy. I don't like vampires who are les...BEEEEEEEEN! Permanent Sticky and more on this episode of The Morning Stream Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Send us a textMystery begins around 16 minutes. "Behind Mansion Walls: Death Before Divorce" is Season 2, Episode 6Gross, pale weirdo Dick Sharpe (yes) marries the lovely Karen right after high school. He's pale, he's a weirdo and he's super insane. That never is a good combo for a successful marriage. Support the showCheck out our website: https://www.buzzsprout.com/837988 Linktree: https://linktr.ee/itsalwaysthehusbandpodcast Like our Facebook page and join our group!! Instagram: @itsalwaysthehusbandpodcast Twitter: @alwaysthehubs Etsy Shop: https://www.etsy.com/shop/ItsAlwaysTheHusband?ref=simple-shop-header-name&listing_id=776055218 Theme song by Jamie "I'm Gonna Kill You, Bitch" Nelson

Some paranormal encounters are quiet. Subtle. Easy to doubt. This one was not. One listener, a seasoned professional used to handling every type of personality imaginable, found themselves frozen with fear during what should have been an ordinary hiring event. Dozens of job applicants filled the waiting room, but one young man stood out immediately. Pale, stiff, strangely formal for his age—he sat alone, hands folded neatly on the table, never glancing at his phone. Then, as if sensing her gaze, he looked up. And that's when she saw them.  Not pupils. Not irises. Just eyes that were completely, impossibly black. In that instant, she felt sick—panic crashing through her as one chilling thought flashed in her mind: That boy has no soul. The feeling was so overwhelming, she couldn't bring herself to approach him. When she asked coworkers if they'd processed his paperwork, no one had. When she turned back to the table, he was gone. No application. No exit. Nothing. But this wasn't the only story shared that day. Another caller described a terrifying night in rural Ohio: a fire in the backyard, a panicked friend chased by something massive from the bushes, and a dog frozen in terror as a tree shook violently on its own. His friend swore the creature was nine or ten feet tall—a brush with Bigfoot, or something darker? Two very different stories. One thread in common: both witnesses left forever changed, knowing they had looked into something not of this world. These are the moments that haunt you long after the lights go out—the kind you can't explain away, no matter how badly you want to.  #RealGhostStories #BlackEyedChildren #ParanormalEncounters #CreepyStories #DemonicPresence #TrueGhostStory #ParanormalActivity #BlackEyedMan #HauntedEncounters #BigfootSighting Love real ghost stories? Don't just listen—join us on YouTube and be part of the largest community of real paranormal encounters anywhere. Subscribe now and never miss a chilling new story:

Tonight we have creepy pale crawlers, chilling ghostly activity, a telepathic dogman and so much more. Keep it spooky and enjoy! Season 19 Episode 44 of Monsters Among Us Podcast, true paranormal stories of ghosts, cryptids, UFOs and more, told by the witnesses themselves. SHOW NOTES:  Support the show! Get ad-free, extended & bonus episodes (and more) on Patreon - https://www.patreon.com/monstersamonguspodcast Tonight's Sponsor - Lumi Gummies THC & CBD gummies - Feel good, not stoned. Get 30% off your order with code MAU at LumiGummies.com Tonight's Sponsor - Greenlight debit card for kids & teens - Teach your kids real-world money skills, start your risk-free Greenlight trial today at Greenlight.com/MAU Believing the Bizarre Podcast - https://believingthebizarre.com/ MAU Merch Shop - https://www.monstersamonguspodcast.com/shop MAU Discord - https://discord.gg/2EaBq7f9JQ Watch FREE - Shadows in the Desert: High Strangeness in the Borrego Triangle  - https://www.borregotriangle.com/ Monsters Among Us Junior on Apple Podcasts  - https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/monsters-among-us-junior/id1764989478 Monsters Among Us Junior on Spotify - https://open.spotify.com/show/1bh5mWa4lDSqeMMX1mYxDZ?si=9ec6f4f74d61498b Eric's "comet UFO" photo - https://bit.ly/42heJwo Polaris Dawn - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Polaris_Dawn Virginia pale crawler - https://phantomsandmonsters.com/post/996286261378564686 Gettysburg ghost story - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GyI2lu7EUtU Best of Bray Road movie - https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0462193/ Washington Snohomish County dogman sighting -  https://northamericandogmanproject.com/encounters    Fredericksburg, TX dogman sighting -  https://northamericandogmanproject.com/encounters    Monsters Among Us Linda S Godfrey - https://bit.ly/4puVGJc Rupert Sheldrake - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rupert_Sheldrake Rupert Sheldrake interview - https://www.instagram.com/reel/DL5dUXxtITZ/ The Man Who Sees UFOs movie - https://bit.ly/4nmJwzY Music from tonight's episode: Music by Iron Cthulhu Apocalypse - https://www.youtube.com/c/IronCthulhuApocalypse CO.AG Music - https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCcavSftXHgxLBWwLDm_bNvA Music By Karl Casey @ White Bat Audio - https://www.youtube.com/@WhiteBatAudio White Bat Audio Songs: Anamorphic Channel 4 Prince of the City Calling You Heart of Darkness

your favorite duo is back this week: Halley and Jaz dive straight into the week's wildest headline, Taylor and Travis are officially engaged. the two spiral into full-on parasocial mode, breaking down everything from the shock of a collab post announcement to imagining what the wedding guest list and security would even look like. Jaz jokes about becoming a bodyguard, Halley debates whether it will be a mega-celebrity event or a secret ceremony, and both of them can't help but laugh at just how invested they've become in a couple they've never met.from there, the conversation flows into a whirlwind of personal updates. Jaz vents about the chaos of her home renovations, accidentally sending the most questionable texts to her contractor, and realizing just how much fences cost in Long Island. health takes center stage as well as Halley navigates her workout routine and spray tan obsession, and as the two debate TikTok's “pale girl exposure therapy” trend, listeners get a raw and hilarious look at how they balance wellness, vanity, and everything in between.as always, the episode is packed with their signature hilarious banter. they go off about awkward gynecologist appointments, friendship trio politics when it comes to picking a maid of honor, a specific chaotic experience at a bathhouse that ended in no massage, and the bizarre etiquette breaches they've witnessed at influencer events like the US Open. add in puppy potty-training wins and the iconic story of Halley accidentally doubting herself about James Marsden literally living across the street, and you've got a jam-packed episode full of laughter, relatability, and the kind of storytelling only Halley and Jaz can deliver.Timestamps 0:18 - Celebrating the royal engagement6:34 - Halley's health updates13:20 - Pale girl exposure therapy 18:17 - Gyno appointments and drinking water22:35 - Maid of honor controversy 26:40 - Haircuts and husbands 29:46 - “Not looking for a husband, but looking for a father”35:19 - Stacy updates 40:29 - Providing context 45:53 - The US OpenLinks DraftKings: Download the app and sign up with code DELUSIONALSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

(00:00-11:33) Sometimes you just feel like dancing in the moonlight. Audio of former Mizzou RB Tony Temple on with Gabe DeArmond of PowerMizzou telling a story of wearing a kU shirt to the Mizzou workout facility. Story of Gary Pinkel asking a reporter to take off a Tennessee hat.(11:41-19:17) Jackson's faves. Gentleman Towny and Dagum War Drum are taken. Martin's wife is a Jackson lemming. Pale & Frail. Jackson won't go workout with Chairman at 4AM. Missourah vs. Missouri.(19:27-33:06) Maybe The Legend isn't so legendary after all. Jackson likes the under on these Brazil games. Justin Herbert is a good dude. Who's the most cursed pro sports team. Jackson is carrying Luther Burden's water.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Gary Owen joins Ralph Sutton and Aaron Berg and they discuss guys lying about their height, Gary Owen's divorce experience, winning Best Black Comic in 1997, lying about doing a benefit with Jim Carrey, only sleeping with one white woman, living with a gangster in Los Angeles, getting a TV deal with Quincy Jones, having a private conversation with OJ Simpson, a game of Words In The Hood where they try to guess the definition of urban slang terms, preparing for Daddy Day Care and so much more!(Air Date: August 27th, 2025)Support our sponsors!YoKratom.com - Check out Yo Kratom (the home of the $60 kilo) for all your kratom needs!Visit https://prizepicks.onelink.me/LME0/SDR and use code SDR and get $50 in lineups when you play your first $5 lineup! To advertise your product or service on GaS Digital podcasts please go to TheADSide.com and click on "Advertisers" for more information!You can watch The SDR Show LIVE for FREE every Wednesday and Saturday at 9pm ET at GaSDigitalNetwork.com/LIVEOnce you're there you can sign up at GaSDigitalNetwork.com with promo code: SDR for discount on your subscription which will give you access to every SDR show ever recorded! On top of that you'll also have the same access to ALL the shows that GaS Digital Network has to offer!Follow the whole show on social media!Gary OwenTwitter: https://twitter.com/GaryOwenComedyInstagram: https://instagram.com/GaryOwenComedyRalph SuttonTwitter: https://twitter.com/iamralphsuttonInstagram: https://www.instagram.com/iamralphsutton/Aaron BergTwitter: https://twitter.com/aaronbergcomedyInstagram: https://instagram.com/aaronbergcomedyShannon LeeTwitter: https://twitter.com/IMShannonLeeInstagram: https://instagram.com/ShannonLee6982The SDR ShowTwitter: https://twitter.com/theSDRshowInstagram: https://www.instagram.com/thesdrshow/See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.